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THE  GILDED  MAN 


THE    GILDED    MAN 

A   ROMANCE    OF   THE  ANDES 
BY     CLIFFORD     SMYTH 


WITH  AN         INTRODTTCTION  BY 

RICHARD        LE      GALLIENNE 


BONI     AND     LIVERIGHT 

NEWYORK  I918 


Copyright,  1918 
By  BoNi  &  LivERiGHT,  Inc. 


TO 

BEATRIX 


2138382 


CONTENTS 

Introduction xi 

Chapter 

I.  In  Which  Comet  Goes  Lame      ....  i 

II.  In  Una's  Garden lo 

III.  A  Chapter  on  Ghosts 19 

rv.  The  Ghost  of  the  Forgotten    ....  30 

V.  The  Search  for  El  Dorado 41 

VI.  Emboladores  on  the  March      ....  55 

VII.  La  Reina  de  Los  Indios 71 

VIII.  A  River  Interlude 89 

IX.  On  Indian  Trails 105 

X.  An  Old  Mystery 125 

XI.  In  Which  Andrew  Is  Found       ....  145 

XII.  A  Dead  Wall 157 

XIII.  Mrs.  Quayle  Takes  the  Lead    ....  170 

XIV.  The  Black  Magnet 189 

XV.  At  the  Sign  of  the  Condor       .     .     .     .  212 

XVI.  Narva 230 

XVII.  A  Song  and  Its  Sequel 251 

XVIII.   Subterranean  Photography 274 

XIX.  A  Queen's  Conquest 293 

XX.  Legend  and  Reality 302 

XXI.  Dreams ,     .     .  312 

XXII.  A  People's  Destiny 325 

XXIII.   The  Gilded  Man 344 

vii 


THE  GILDED  MAN 


FOREWORD 

TWO  dreams  have  persistently  haunted  the  imagina- 
tion of  man  since  dreams  began.  You  find  them  in 
all  mythologies,  and,  perhaps  most  dramatically,  in  the 
Arabian  Nights:  the  dream  of  the  Water  of  Immortal- 
ity, and  the  dream  of  the  Golden  City.  Within  recent 
times — that  is,  during  the  sixteenth  century — both  were 
lifted  out  of  the  region  of  fairy  lore,  and  men  as  far 
from  "dreamers,"  in  the  ordinary  sense,  as  the  "con- 
quistador" Ponce  de  Leon  and  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  raised 
them  into  the  sphere  of  something  like  Elizabethan  prac- 
tical politics.  Whether  or  not  Ponce  de  Leon  did  ac- 
tually discover  the  Fountain  of  Eternal  Youth  on  the 
Bimini  Islands  concerns  us  but  incidentally  here.  At  all 
events,  he  seems  to  have  died  without  drinking  of  it;  as 
death  on  the  scaffold  was  the  penalty  for  Raleigh's  fail- 
ure to  discover  El  Dorado.  So  practically  had  the  courts 
of  Elizabeth  and  James  regarded  the  dream  of  the 
Golden  City,  and  so  firm  had  been  Raleigh's  own  belief 
in  it.  Though  Raleigh's  name  is  most  conspicuously  and 
tragically  connected  with  it,  of  course  it  had  been  Span- 
ish adventurers  for  several  generations  before — exploring 
that  "Spanish  Main"  which  they  had  already,  and  in 
romance  forever,  made  their  own — who  had  given  that 
dream  its  local  habitation  and  its  name.  Martinez  had 
been  the  first  to  tell  how,  having  drifted  on  the  coast  of 
Guiana,  he  had  been  taken  inland  to  a  city  called  Manoa, 


xii  FOREWORD 

whose  king  was  in  alliance  with  the  Incas.  Manoa,  said 
he,  to  opened  mouths  and  wondering  eyes,  on  his  return 
to  Spain,  was  literally  built,  walls  and  roofs,  houses  big 
and  little,  of  silver  and  gold.  His  tale,  garnished  with 
many  other  mysterious  matters,  soon  speeded  expedition 
after  expedition,  dreaming  across  those 

"perilous  seas 
In   fairyland    forlorn." 

All  came  back  with  marvels  on  their  tongues.  All  had 
caught  glimpses  of  the  gilded  domes  of  the  city,  but 
that  was  all.  Gonzales  Ximinez  de  Quesada  from  Santa 
Fe  de  Bogota  was  "warmest,"  perhaps;  but  he  too  failed. 
Many  a  daring  sailor  since  has  vainly  gone  on  a  like 
quest.  Even  in  our  prosaic  times — in  the  true  Eliza- 
bethan spirit,  that,  for  all  their  romance,  actually  ani- 
mated those  enterprises  of  old  time — when  men  sought 
real  gold  as  now,  not  "faery-gold" — an  enterprise,  with 
a  prospectus,  shareholders,  and  those  dreams  now  known 
as  promised  dividends,  has  made  it  its  serious  "incorpo- 
rated" business  to  go  in  quest  of  El  Dorado. 

But,  elaborate  as  all  previous  expeditions  and  enter- 
prises have  been,  and  dauntless  as  the  courage  of  the 
individual  explorer,  one  and  all  have  failed — till  now. 
Till  now,  I  say — for  at  last  El  Dorado  has  been  discov- 
ered, and  it  is  my  proud  privilege  to  announce,  for  the 
first  time,  the  name  of  its  discoverer — Dr.  Clifford  Smyth. 

Dr.  Smyth  has  chosen  the  medium  of  fiction  for  the 
publication  of  his  discovery,  like  other  such  eminent  dis- 
coverers as  the  authors  of  Erewhon  and  Utopia,  but  that 
fact,  I  need  hardly  say,  in  nowise  invalidates  the  au- 
thenticity   and    serious    importance    of    his    discovery. 


FOREWORD  xiii 

Though  truth  be  stranger  than  fiction,  it  has  but  seldom 
its  charm,  and,  to  use  the  by-gone  phrase,  Dr.  Smyth's 
relation  of  happenings  which  we  never  doubt  for  a  rapt 
moment  did  happen  "reads  as  entertainingly  as  a  fiction." 
In  fact,  the  present  writer — who  confesses  to  the  idleness 
of  keeping  au  courant  with  the  good  and  even  merely 
advertised  fiction  of  the  day,  recalls  no  fiction  in  some 
years  that  has  seemed  to  him  comparable  in  imagina- 
tive quality  with  The  Gilded  Man,  or  has  given  him,  in 
any  like  degree,  the  special  kind  of  delight  which  Dr. 
Smyth's  narrative  has  given  him.  For  any  such  thrill 
as  the  latter  part  of  the  book  in  particular  holds,  he  finds 
that  his  memory  must  travel  back,  no  difficult  or  lengthy 
journey,  to  Mr.  Rider  Haggard's  King  Solomon's  Mines 
— a  book  which  one  sees  more  and  more  taking  its  place 
as  one  of  the  classics  of  fantastic  romance,  the  kind  of 
romance  which  combines  adventure  with  poetic  strange- 
ness; though,  at  its  publication,  "superior  persons,"  with 
the  notable  exception  of  that  paradoxical  most  superior 
person,  and  man  of  genius,  Andrew  Lang,  disdained  it 
as  a  passing  "thriller." 

Perhaps  it  is  not  indiscreet  to  say  that  one  circum- 
stance of  Dr.  Smyth's  life  gave  him  exceptional  opportu- 
nities for  that  dreaming  on  his  special  object  which  is 
found  to  be  the  invariable  incubation,  so  to  say,  preced- 
ing all  great  discoveries.  For  some  years  Dr.  Smyth  was 
United  States  consul  at  Carthagena,  that  unspoiled  haunt- 
ed city  of  the  Spanish  Main,  which,  it  may  be  recalled, 
furnishes  a  spirited  chapter  in  the  history  of  Roderick 
Random,  Esquire,  of  His  Majesty's  Navy.  He  was, 
therefore,  seated  by  the  very  door  to  that  land  of  en- 
chantment, which,  as  we  have  been  saying,  had  drawn  so 


xiv  FOREWORD 

many  adventurous  spirits  under  roaring  canvas  across 
the  seas,  in  the  spacious  days.  He  was  but  a  short 
mule-back  journey  from  that  table-land  raised  high  in 
the  upper  Andes  where  Bogota,  the  capital  of  Colombia, 
is  situated,  the  region  around  which  all  those  "supersti- 
tions" retailed  by  Indians  to  those  early  adventurers 
centre.  Descendants  of  the  same  Indians  still  tell  the 
same  stories,  and  still  the  average  prosaic  mind  laughs 
at  them  as  "superstitions."  El  Dorado!  as  if  any  one 
could  take  it  seriously  nowadays!  Has  not  the  term  long 
been  a  picturesque  synonym  for  The  City  of  Impossible 
Happiness,  the  Land  of  Heart's  Desire,  the  Paradise  of 
Fools,  and  all  such  cities  and  realms  and  destinations 
and  states  of  being,  as  the  yearning  heart  of  man,  find- 
ing nowhere  on  the  earth  he  knows,  imagines  in  the  sun- 
tipped  cloudland  of  his  dreams,  and  toward  which  he 
pathetically  turns  his  eyes,  and  stretches  out  his  arms  to 
the  end? 

But  what  if  El  Dorado  were  no  such  mere  figment  of 
man's  aching  fancy,  after  all;  what  if  the  El  Dorado,  so 
passionately  believed  in  by  those  eminently  practical 
Elizabethans,  did  all  the  time,  as  they  surmised,  exist 
upon  this  solid  earth,  and  should  still  quite  concretely 
exist  there  .   ,   . 

Is  it  not  likely  that  such  might  be  the  musings  of  a 
man  situated  as  was  Dr.  Smyth,  in  the  very  heart  of  the 
mystery,  a  man  of  affairs,  touched  with  imagination,  as 
all  really  capable  men  of  affairs  are;  and,  as  he  listened 
to  the  old  Indian  tales,  and  talked  with  miners,  and  all 
manner  of  folk  acquainted  with  the  terrain  of  the  legend, 
what  could  he  do  but  fall  under  the  same  spell  that  had 
laid  its  ghostly  hand  on  the  mighty  heart  of  Raleigh 


FOREWORD  XV 

centuries  before,  and  follow  its  beckoning,  as  the  other 
inspired  madmen  before  him? 

But,  as  we  have  seen,  his  doom  was  to  be  different. 
For  so  long  generations  of  dead  men  had  come  crying, 
like  those  three  old  horsemen  in  Morris's  Glittering  Plain: 
"Is  this  the  Land?  Is  this  the  Land?"  to  turn  broken- 
hearted away;  but  from  him,  of  all  men  born,  through- 
out the  generations,  was  to  be  heard  at  last  the  joyous, 
ringing  cry:    "This  is  the  Land!     This  is  the  Land!" 

Pause  for  one  moment  more  and  think  what  El  Dorado 
has  meant  to  mankind,  think  with  all  your  might;  and 
then  think  what  must  have  been  the  feelings  of  the  man 
who  stood  looking  upon  it,  and  knew  that  he — that  he — 
had  found  it.  In  such  moments  of  transfiguring  realiza- 
tion men  often  lose  their  reason,  and,  as  we  say,  it  is 
not  a  little  surprising  that  Dr.  Smyth  is  alive  to  tell  the 
tale.  The  lovely  knowledge  might  well  have  struck  him 
as  by  lightning,  and  the  secret  once  more  have  been 
buried  in  oblivion. 

I  have  all  along  taken  it  for  granted  that  Dr.  Smyth's 
The  Gilded  Man  is  a  genuine  narrative,  the  true  story  of 
a  wonderful  happening.  If  any  one  should  come  to  me 
and  tell  me  that  I  am  simple-minded,  that  it  is  no  such 
thing,  and  that,  as  the  children  say.  Dr.  Smyth  "made  it 
up  all  out  of  his  own  head,"  I  should  still  need  a  lot  of 
convincing,  and,  were  conviction  at  last  forced  upon  me, 
I  could  only  answer  that  Dr.  Smyth  must  then  possess 
a  power  of  creating  illusion  such  as  few  romancers  have 
possessed.  For  there  is  a  plausibility,  a  particularity,  a 
concreteness  about  all  the  scenes  and  personages  in  The 
Gilded  Man  that  make  it  impossible  not  to  believe  them 
true  and  actual,  however  removed   from  common  ex- 


xvi  FOREWORD 

perience  they  may  seem.  I  should  like  very  much  to  be 
more  particular,  but  I  cannot  very  well  be  so  without 
betraying  the  story — or  "true  and  veracious  history," 
whichever  it  may  turn  out  to  be.  Still  I  can  hint  at  one 
or  two  matters  without  betraying  too  much.  The  mys- 
terious queen,  Sajipona,  for  example,  seems  not  only 
real,  but  she  and  her  love-story  make  one  of  the  loveliest 
idylls  in  what,  for  want  of  a  better  word,  one  may  call 
"supernatural"  romance  that  has  ever  been  written.  And 
all  the  dream-like  happenings  in  the  great  cave,  though 
of  the  veritable  "stuff  that  dreams  are  made  of,"  are  en- 
dowed with  as  near  and  moving  a  sense  of  reality  as 
though  they  were  enacted  on  Broadway. 

Of  the  cave  itself,  which  may  be  said  to  be  the  Pre- 
siding Personage  of  the  book,  it  seems  to  me  impossible 
to  speak  with  too  great  admiration.  It  is,  without  exag- 
geration, an  astonishing  piece  of  invention;  I  refer  not 
merely  to  the  ingenuity  of  its  mechanical  devices,  though 
I  might  well  do  that,  for  they  are  not  merely  devised 
with  an  exceeding  cleverness,  but  the  cleverness  is  of  a 
kind  that  thrills  one  with  a  romantic  dread,  the  kind  of 
awe-inspiring  devices  that  we  shudder  at  when  we  try  to 
picture  the  mysteries  of  the  temples  of  Moloch.  Dr. 
Smyth's  invention  here  is  of  no  machine-made,  puzzle- 
constructed  order.  We  feel  that  he  has  not  so  much 
invented  these  devices,  but  dreamed  them — seen  them 
himself  with  a  thrill  of  fear  and  wonder  in  a  dream. 
And  the  great  device  of  them  all,  that  by  which  the  cave 
is  lighted  so  radiantly  and  yet  so  mystically,  outsoars 
ingenuity,  and  is  nothing  short  of  a  high  poetic  inspira- 
tion. But  all  these  details,  each  in  itself  of  a  distin- 
guished originality,  gain  an  added  value  of  impressive- 


FOREWORD  xvii 

ness  from  the  atmosphere  of  noble  poetic  imagination 
which  enfolds  them  all,  that  atmosphere  which  always 
distinguishes  a  work  of  creation  from  one  of  mere  inven- 
tion. I  do  not  wish  to  seem  to  speak  in  superlatives,  but, 
in  my  opinion,  Dr.  Smyth's  cave  of  The  Gilded  Man 
belongs  with  the  great  caves  of  literature.  I  thought  of 
Vathek  as  I  read  it,  though  it  is  not  the  least  the  same, 
except  in  that  quality  of  imaginative  atmosphere. 

With  the  purely  "human"  interest  of  the  book,  the  day- 
Jight  scenes  and  doings,  he  is  no  less  successful.  His  plot 
'is  constructed  with  great  skill  and  is  full  of  surprises. 
The  manner  in  which  he  "winds"  into  it  is  particularly 
original.  Then,  too,  his  characters  are  immediately  alive, 
and  there  is  some  good  comedy  naturally  befallen.  Gen- 
eral Herran  and  Doctor  Miranda  are  delightfully  drawn 
South  American  characters,  and  the  atmosphere  of  a 
little  South  American  republic  convincingly  conveyed, 
evidently  from  sympathetic  experience.  Nor  must  the  ab- 
surd Mrs.  Quayle  be  forgotten,  and  particularly  her 
jewels,  which  play  such  an  eccentric  part  in  the  story — 
one  of  Dr.  Smyth's  quaintest  pieces  of  cleverness. 

But  it  is  time  I  ended  my  proud  role  of  showman,  and 
allowed  the  show  to  begin.  So  this  and  no  more:  If 
Dr.  Smyth  has,  as  I  personally  believe  from  the  con- 
vincing manner  of  his  book,  discovered  El  Dorado,  he  is 
to  be  congratulated  alike  on  the  discovery  and  his  strik- 
ing method  of  publishing  forth  the  news;  but  if  he  has 
merely  dreamed  it  for  our  benefit,  then  I  say  that  a  man 
whom  we  have  long  respected  as  a  wise  and  generous 
critic  of  other  men's  books,  should  lose  no  time  in  writing 
more  books  of  his  own. 

Richard  Le  Galleenne 


THE  GILDED   MAN 


IN   WHICH   COMET   GOES   LAME 

WHEN,  one  evening  in  the  late  Autumn,  David 
Meudon  reached  the  entrance  to  Stoneleigh  Gar- 
den, where  Una  Leighton  awaited  him,  it  was  evident 
something  unusual  had  happened. 

"You  are  late,"  she  said,  as  he  clasped  the  slender 
hand  extended  to  him  in  welcome. 

"I  could  ride  no  faster.     Comet  is  lame." 

The  tired  bay,  belying  his  name,  stood  dejectedly,  one 
v/hite  foreleg  slightly  bent,  as  if  seeking  relief  from  a 
weight  it  was  weary  of  bearing.  By  the  friendly  way 
in  which  he  stretched  forth  his  muzzle  to  touch  the  girl's 
proffered  fingers.  Comet  was  evidently  not  a  stranger  to 
her  endearments. 

"Poor  Comet!  Why  didn't  you  take  better  care  of 
him?" 

"I  was  too  impatient  at  the  start,  and  that  got  him 
into  trouble.  After  that,  of  course,  we  had  to  go 
slowly.  I  hated  the  delay.  I  hated  having  to  listen  to 
my  own  thoughts  for  so  long." 

Her  gray  eyes  fixed  questioningly  upon  the  bronzed, 


2  THE  GILDED  MAN 

sharp-featured  man,  she  noted  his  restless  gaze,  his 
riding-whip's  irritable  tattoo  on  polished  boot-top  as  he 
stood  at  her  side.  Then,  flinging  her  arms  about  his 
neck,  her  face,  flushed  with  pleasure  and  expressive  of 
a  mingled  tenderness  and  anxiety,  turned  expectantly 
to  his. 

"David,  you  are  here!"  she  said  impulsively.  "You 
are  glad,  aren't  you?  Say  that  your  thoughts  aren't 
gloomy  any  more." 

"What  need  to  say  it— Una!" 

Silently  the  two  lovers  threaded  the  box-bordered  path 
leading  to  the  great  stone  mansion  beyond,  pausing  to 
admire  the  flowers  that  still  bloomed  in  a  straggling  sort 
of  way,  or  marking  the  loss  of  those  whose  gay  colors 
and  delicate  fragrance  had  formed  a  part  of  their  own 
joyous  companionship  a  month  ago.  But  this  evening, 
as  if  reflecting  Nature's  autumn  mood,  there  was  some- 
thing of  melancholy — restraint,  where  restraint  had  never 
been  before — in  David's  bearing;  while  with  Una  there 
was  an  affectionate  solicitude  that  strove  to  soothe  an 
unspoken  trouble. 

"You  must  stay  to-night,"  she  said;  "it  would  be  cruel 
to  ride  Comet  back." 

"But  your  Uncle — will  he  care  to  have  me  here?" 

"What  a  question!     Of  course  he  will." 

"Are  you  sure?  He  was  in  town  the  other  day  to  see 
me.    Did  he  tell  you?" 

"No.  But  then.  Uncle  Harold  seldom  tells  what  he 
has  been  doing." 

"He  was  in  one  of  his  grim  moods;  cordial  enough 
outwardly;  but,  inside,  I  felt  a  curious  sort  of  malev- 
olence.   That's  an  ugly  word — but  it  seemed  just  that." 


IN  WHICH  COMET  GOES  LAME  3 

"Uncle  Harold  malevolent!  That  isn't  very  nice  of 
you  to  say." 

"He  asked  me  if  I  thought  our  marriage  should  take 
place." 

"And  you  said ?" 

"Nothing." 

"Davidl" 

"I  am  unworthy  of  you,  Una — I  feel  it.  There  are 
men,  you  know,  who  have  in  their  past  things  that  make 
them  unworthy  the  woman  they  love.  I  confess,  there 
are  dark  shadows,  haunting  things  in  my  past.  I  can't 
explain  them,  even  to  myself.  I  don't  altogether  know 
what  they  are — queer  as  that  sounds!  But — ^some  day 
they  might  come  between  us.  When  I  rode  over  just 
now,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  try  to  tell  you.  You  ought 
to  know " 

"David,"  she  interrupted,  "I  don't  want  to  know.  I 
love  you  as  you  are  to-day.  If  you  were  different  in  the 
past,  before  I  knew  you,  I  don't  care  to  hear  about  it." 

In  spite  of  his  self-depreciation,  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world  David  Meudon  would  be  regarded  in  every  way 
a  worthy  suitor  for  the  hand  of  Una  Leighton.  Clean 
of  stock,  so  far  as  the  gifts  of  blood  and  social  station 
go,  he  had  inherited  besides  a  fortune  that  would  be  con- 
sidered large  even  in  a  nation  of  millionaires.  This  in- 
heritance, coming  to  him  through  the  death  of  his  father 
and  mother  in  the  middle  of  his  college  course,  had  not 
proved  a  snare  to  him.  After  completing  his  education, 
he  had  traveled  extensively,  not  through  an  idle  curiosity 
to  see  the  world,  but  from  a  wish  to  perfect  himself  in 
certain  studies  calling  for  a  wider  knowledge  than  could 
be  gathered  from  books  or  tutors. 


4  THE  GILDED  MAN 

It  was  during  his  travels  abroad,  after  he  had  left  his 
eccentric  schoolmate,  Raoul  Arthur,  in  India,  that  David 
first  met  Una  Leighton,  who  was  spending  a  winter  in 
England  with  her  uncle.  The  meeting  ripened  into  an 
intimacy  that  survived  the  distractions  of  European 
travel,  and  drew  David,  a  constant  visitor,  to  the  pic- 
turesque old  mansion,  Una's  home,  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  little  Connecticut  village  of  Rysdale. 

There  followed  those  memorable  experiences  of  youth 
— courtship  and  betrothal.  David  loved  with  all  the 
fervor  of  a  mature  passion,  a  passion  that  quite  over- 
shadowed all  his  former  interests.  Love  for  him  was  an 
idyl  of  dreams  and  delicious  fantasies,  a  paradise  where 
he  and  Una  delighted  in  all  the  harmless  exaggerations 
of  poetry  and  romance.  No  cloud  dimmed  their  happi- 
ness. The  brightest  kind  of  future  seemed  to  stretch 
indefinitely  before  them. 

All  the  world — the  world  of  Rysdale — knew  of  their 
love  and  discussed  it  eagerly.  Their  daylong  wanderings 
together,  their  absorption  in  each  other,  appealed  to  the 
sensible  farmers  and  their  wives,  who  watched  with  tire- 
less interest  the  development  of  this  romance  in  their 
midst.  There  was  something,  besides  the  rumors  of  his 
great  wealth,  in  the  personality  of  David  that  would 
easily  account  for  this  interest.  As  a  result  of  his  long 
years  of  solitary  travel  he  had  acquired  an  indefinable 
air  of  reserve  that  was  emphasized  by  features  almost 
Indian  in  their  clean-cut  sharpness  and  immobility.  His 
whole  appearance,  indeed,  was  of  the  kind  traditionally 
suggesting  mystery — a  mystery  that  inevitably  arouses 
curiosity  in  those  who  come  within  its  influence. 

Had  Una  been  a  stranger,  spending  a  summer,  as  so 


IN  WHICH  COMET  GOES  LAME  5 

many  strangers  did,  in  the  little  mountain  hamlet,  her 
intimacy  with  David  might  have  passed  unheeded.  But 
she  belonged  very  much  to  the  place.  Generations  ago 
her  ancestors  had  settled  here.  At  that  initial  epoch  in 
local  history,  Stoneleigh  was  the  only  building  of  any 
importance  in  or  near  Rysdale — and  from  that  period  to 
this  Stoneleigh  had  been  the  home  of  the  Leightons. 
Before  they  bought  the  gray-gabled  mansion  (St.  Maur's 
House  it  was  then  called)  it  was  occupied  by  a  small 
congregation  of  Benedictines,  who  came  from  France  to 
establish  themselves  in  this  quiet  comer  of  the  new 
world.  When  the  House  passed  from  the  monks  into 
the  hands  of  that  stout  Scotch  pioneer,  John  Leighton, 
it  was  a  desolate  sort  of  ruin.  But  its  walls  were  well 
built,  and  the  thrift  of  its  new  owners  gradually  added 
the  wings  and  the  square,  central  tower  needed  for  the 
family  comfort. 

Leighton  was  thus  one  of  the  oldest  names  in  the 
neighborhood.  The  family  bearing  it  had  always  pros- 
pered. Years  ago  their  income,  what  with  careful  sav- 
ing and  shrewd  investment,  was  sufficient  to  let  them 
give  up  farming.  This  they  did,  and  settled  down  to  the 
dignified  ease  that,  in  an  English  community,  belongs  to 
the  household  of  a  county  "squire,"  or  to  a  "lord  of  the 
manor." 

Harold  Leighton,  the  present  owner  of  Stoneleigh,  was 
more  of  a  recluse  than  any  of  his  predecessors.  To  the 
gossips  of  Rysdale,  indeed,  who  knew  something  of  the 
history  of  the  place,  it  seemed  as  if  the  cowl  of  the 
monkish  founder  of  the  House  had  fallen  upon  the  shoul- 
ders of  this  gray-haired  old  man.  He  was  looked  upon 
as  a  student  of  unprofitable  matters,  lacking  in  the  canny 


6  THE  GILDED  MAN 

enterprise  distinguishing  the  Leightons  before  him,  and 
that  had  built  up  the  family  fortunes.  By  some  he  was 
liked;  by  others — and  these  were  in  the  majority — the 
satirical  smile,  the  cool  reserve,  the  assumption  of  su- 
periority with  which  he  met  the  social  advances  of  his 
neighbors,  were  set  down  as  indications  of  a  character  to 
be  watched  with  suspicion,  and  that  were  certainly  not 
of  the  right  Rysdale  stamp. 

Una,  however,  was  different.  The  villagers  did  not 
regard  her  with  the  hostility  that  they  had  for  her  uncle. 
Orphaned  at  an  early  age,  she  had  easily  captured  and 
held  the  affection  of  those  who  knew  her.  The  tawny- 
haired  girl,  bubbling  over  with  friendly  prattle,  her  gray 
eyes — bluer  then,  as  with  the  sky-tint  of  a  clear  dawn — 
sparkling  with  youthful  enthusiasms,  had  a  host  of  com- 
rades and  admirers  long  before  she  reached  her  teens. 
With  equal  grace  and  favor  this  radiant  little  creature 
accepted  the  tribute  of  farmer  and  farm-hand,  and  when 
it  came  to  pla5niiates  was  decidedly  more  at  ease  with 
the  village  maidens  than  with  the  decorous  young  ladies 
who  were  occasionally  brought  to  Stoneleigh  on  a  visit 
of  state  from  the  city.  As  Una  grew  older,  this  choice 
of  associates,  unchecked  and  even  encouraged  by  her 
uncle  and  Elizabeth  Quayle,  the  wortiiy  but  not  over- 
astute  matron  who  looked  after  Leighton's  household, 
had  its  drawbacks.  The  girl's  beauty,  which  was  of  no 
ordinary  kind,  inevitably  touched  with  its  flame  victims 
who  were  not  socially  intended  for  this  kind  of  con- 
flagration. Una  sometimes  shared  in  their  subsequent 
misery;  but  she  was  unable  to  lighten  their  woes  in  the 
only  way  they  could  be  lightened.  And  when  she  dis- 
covered that  the  refusal  of  their  offers  usually  meant  the 


IN  WHICH  COMET  GOES  LAME  7 

breaking  up  of  a  treasured  friendship,  she  had  been  known 
to  weep  bitterly  and  form  all  kinds  of  self-denying  reso- 
lutions for  the  future. 

The  climax  to  her  griefs  in  this  respect,  a  climax  partly 
responsible  for  her  flight  to  Europe,  came  through  the 
weakness  (so  his  indignant  aunt  called  it)  of  the  district 
schoolmaster,  Andrew  Parmelee.  Andrew  was  a  solitary 
dreamer,  a  friendless,  inoffensive  sort  of  person,  absorbed 
in  books,  oblivious  to  the  world  around  him.  Learning, 
such  wisps  and  strays  of  it  as  lodged  in  his  mind  as  a 
result  of  his  omnivorous  reading,  he  was  quite  incapable 
of  imparting.  The  use  of  the  ferule,  also,  was  an  enigma 
to  him.  Hence,  there  were  those  unkind  enough  to  whis- 
per that  the  Rysdale  school,  under  his  management,  was 
not  what  it  should  be.  But  every  one  liked  him,  in  a 
tolerant  sort  of  way;  and  with  Una  he  was  in  particular 
favor.  Andrew  didn't  know  this,  at  least  for  some 
time.  When  he  did  find  it  out,  that  is,  when,  quite  by 
accident,  as  it  seemed,  Una  tripped  into  his  school  one 
day  to  pay  him  a  visit,  it  had  quite  a  disastrous  effect 
on  him.  Before  that,  women,  in  general  and  in  par- 
ticular, were  utterly  unknown  to  him,  creatures  to  be 
shunned,  to  be  feared.  He  was  familiar,  of  course,  with 
the  eccentricities  of  his  aunt,  Hepzibah  Armitage.  She 
looked  after  his  wardrobe,  fed  him,  warned  him  of  the 
various  pitfalls  of  youth,  stopped  his  spending  the  money 
allowed  him  by  the  village  trustees  on  the  ancient  his- 
tories for  which  he  had  an  insatiable  appetite.  She  ruled 
with  a  rod  of  iron,  and  the  rod  wasn't  always  pleasant. 
But  for  all  that,  he  felt  that  life  without  Aunt  Hepzibah, 
although  it  might  give  him  one  mad,  rapturous  day  of 
freedom,  was  too  bewildering,  too  dangerous  to  contem- 


8  THE  GILDED  MAN 

plate  as  a  steady  form  of  existence.  Aunt  Hepzibah  was 
an  institution;  she  was  not  a  woman.  He  had  heard  of 
men  falling  in  love  with  women.  Such  an  accident,  in- 
volving his  Aunt  Hepzibah,  was  unthinkable — unless, 
indeed,  something  like  the  conquest  of  the  Scythians  by 
the  Amazons,  of  which  he  had  read  in  his  Herodotus, 
should  be  repeated  in  Rysdale. 

As  for  the  girls  in  Andrew's  school,  it  was  impossible 
to  think  of  them  except  as  so  many  varieties  of  human 
tyranny.  They  were  more  perplexing,  as  a  rule,  cer- 
tainly more  unmanageable,  than  the  boys.  This  was  due 
to  the  languishing  friendships  which  they  tried  to  con- 
tract with  him,  and  which  they  mirthfully  abandoned 
just  so  soon  as  he  began  to  take  them  seriously.  In  fact, 
there  was  nothing  in  Andrew's  fancied  or  actual  experi- 
ence so  terrible — not  even  Aunt  Hepzibah  or  the  Amazons 
of  Herodotus — as  the  schoolgirl  just  old  enough  to  plan 
and  carry  out  this  kind  of  campaign  against  him.  In- 
stances are  on  record,  indeed,  in  which,  convinced  that 
some  overgrown  girl  was  in  rebellion,  he  had  dismissed 
his  school  on  the  plea  of  a  hastily  imagined  holiday,  and 
fled  to  the  woods. 

Una,  however,  in  the  full  bloom  of  her  eighteen  years 
had  not  been  one  of  Andrew's  pupils,  and  thus  had  not 
tormented  him  in  this  particular  manner.  Hence,  when 
she  stood  at  the  schoolhouse  door,  one  fine  morning, 
asking  if  she  might  attend  one  of  his  classes,  he  sus- 
pected nothing.  Overcome  by  her  murmured  assurance 
of  interest,  he  made  room  on  his  little  platform  for  her 
and  for  her  two  friends  from  the  city,  never  dreaming 
that  these  demure  young  ladies  were  not  really  so 
absorbed  in  the  joys  of  learning  as  they  appeared  to  be. 


IN  WHICH  COMET  GOES  LAME  9 

Memorable  for  him  was  the  next  half  hour,  during 
which  he  plunged  his  pupils  through  an  incoherent  lesson 
in  history,  vividly  conscious  all  the  while  of  the  three 
pairs  of  eyes  that  were  fastened  upon  him.  When  the 
ordeal  was  over,  and  he  succeeded  in  bowing  his  visitors 
out  of  the  schoolhouse,  he  had  the  blissful  consciousness 
that  he,  Andrew  Parmelee,  schoolmaster  of  Rysdale,  had 
been  bidden  to  Stoneleigh  whenever  he  chose  to  visit  that 
historic  mansion. 

Aunt  Hepzibah,  as  was  to  be  expected  from  her  per- 
verse disposition,  opposed  the  acceptance  of  this  invita- 
tion. But  Andrew  for  once  went  his  own  way.  Within 
a  month  after  Una's  visit  to  the  school  he  called  at  Stone- 
leigh, where  he  was  received  with  a  cordiality  that  quite 
dumbfounded  him.  There  was  a  brief  but  miserable 
period  of  diffidence  and  terror,  extending  over  several 
subsequent  visits;  after  which  Andrew  found  that  it  was 
really  possible  to  talk  to  this  wonderful,  gray-eyed  crea- 
ture as  he  had  never  dared  talk  to  any  one  before.  In 
fact,  Una  listened  to  him — to  his  little  ambitions,  his 
beliefs,  his  petty  trials — with  a  kindly  sympathy  that  was 
quite  the  most  perfect  thing  he  had  ever  imagined. 

Then  came  the  end  to  his  romance.  It  was  inevitable, 
of  course.  He  wanted  her  to  do  more  than  simply  listen 
to  him — and  that  was  just  the  one  thing  more  that  she 
could  not  do.  It  was  all  very  tragic  to  both  of  them. 
Andrew  was  broken-hearted,  full  of  heroics  about  fidelity, 
eternity,  death.  And  Una — it  was  her  first  experience 
in  human  sorrow,  and  she  was  genuinely  shocked  and 
repentant. 


n 

IN  UNA'S   GARDEN 

UNTIL  David  told  her  that  evening  in  the  garden  at 
Stoneleigh,  Una  had  not  known  that  her  uncle  op- 
posed her  marriage.  No  reason  was  given  for  his  oppo- 
sition— and  David's  attitude  was  quite  as  much  of  a 
puzzle.  He  talked  of  some  shadow  in  his  past,  and  was 
on  the  point  of  telling  Una  what  it  was.  But  she  stopped 
him.  Their  love,  she  said,  had  to  do  with  the  present, 
the  future;  it  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  past.  Never- 
theless, she  wished  David  had  set  himself  right  with 
Leighton. 

"Why  didn't  you  answer  Uncle  Harold?"  she  asked. 

At  first  he  avoided  her  glance,  snapping  his  riding- 
whip  nervously  among  the  withered  sunflower  stalks. 
Then  he  turned  to  her. 

"I  don't  know,"  he  said. 

"You  knew  he  was  wrong." 

"In  a  way — yes.  And  then,  I  wondered  if,  after  all, 
he  was  right.  As  I  said,  I  can't  explain  it  to  myself. 
You  stopped  my  speaking  to  you  about  it.  And  yet, 
do  you  know,  after  talking  with  your  uncle,  I  convinced 
myself — I  thought  I  convinced  myself — that  I  was  un- 
worthy of  you,  that  our  marriage  would  be  wrong." 

"Don't  say  thatl"  she  exclaimed   angrily.    "Unless 

10 


IN  UNA'S  GARDEN  ii 

your  love  for  me  has  changed,  it  is  the  one  right  thing 
in  the  world — as  mine  is  for  you." 

"Beloved!  Let  it  be  so,"  he  said,  his  dark  mood  van- 
ishing, "Let  the  first  day  of  our  new  life  be  the  first 
day  of  our  past.  Do  you  remember  that  first  day? 
Coming  down  the  river  we  spoke  hardly  a  word.  You 
laughed  at  me,  called  me  lazy,  the  boat  slipped  along  so 
slowly.  And  you  were  right!  Watching  you  I  forgot 
the  stupid  business  of  rowing.  Never  before  were  you 
so  beautiful — but  now  you  are  a  million  times  more 
beautiful!  How  I  wanted  to  kiss  you!  If  I  had  dared 
kiss  just  a  bit  of  your  dress,  anything  blessed  by  touch- 
ing you!  But  I  didn't — not  then!  How  it  all  happened 
afterward,  when  we  landed  at  our  island,  is  the  mystery — 
or,  rather,  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world.  I  was 
tongue-tied  as  ever.  Not  a  word  in  the  language  was 
in  reach  of  me — at  least,  I  couldn't  think  of  one.  Natu- 
rally, the  dictionary  men  left  out  our  words;  they  didn't 
know  you.  And  yet,  we  understood!  Did  the  birds 
tell  us,  I  wonder,  or  was  it  written  on  the  trees,  or  whis- 
pered in  the  golden  air?  Love  talks  without  words.  But 
now — "  he  broke  off  abruptly — ^"now  I  must  answer 
Uncle  Harold." 

"Why?" 

"I  wish  I  could  talk  it  over  with  Raoul,"  he  went  on, 
not  heeding  the  question. 

"Why  with  Raoul?" 

"You  don't  know  Raoul." 

"Tell  me  about  him." 

"He  understands  me,  that's  all.  We  have  been  to- 
gether a  lot.    But  what's  the  use  of  thinking  of  him! 


12  THE  GILDED  MAN 

He's  in  India,  probably — or,  maybe,  Bogota — ^yes,  it 
must  be  Bogota — and  will  stay  there  for  years." 

"You  are  fond  of  him?" 

"No!  I  can't  imagine  any  one  being  fond  of  him.  He 
fascinates  you.  He's  queer.  He  is  my  age,  yet  his  hair 
is  white — even  his  eyebrows  and  his  eyelashes  are  white. 
Fancy  a  young  man  with  white  eyelashes!  There's  not 
a  hint  of  color  in  his  face.  And  his  eyes — you  can't  tell 
what  they  are;  neither  can  you  avoid  them  when  they 
stop  twitching  and  fix  themselves  on  you.  Did  you  ever 
see  a  human  being  jump  out  at  you  from  a  pair  of  eyes? 
It  sounds  foolish;  but  then,  you've  never  seen  Raoul! 
Love  leaps  out  of  your  eyes,  and  all  the  beauty  of  trees 
and  rivers.  God  made  your  eyes  and  put  you  in  them 
just  to  help  people.  It  was  the  devil  who  made  Raoul's 
eyes." 

They  lingered  at  the  far  comer  of  the  terraced  garden 
where  a  low  hedge  of  box  overlooked  a  deep,  silent  grove 
of  balsams.  Beyond,  at  one  side,  the  gray  walls  of 
Stoneleigh,  the  square  tower  bearing  aloft  a  single  ray 
of  light,  rose  indistinctly  against  a  background  of  firs. 
The  familiar  scene,  softened  by  the  twilight,  dispelled 
their  first  feeling  of  uneasiness.  Everything  had 
changed.  Once  more  the  world  was  brightened  by  their 
love.  The  touch  of  Una's  hand,  the  fragrance  of  her 
hair,  the  joy  of  her  quivering  lips,  were,  for  David,  the 
only  things  that  mattered. 

Since  their  first  meeting,  a  year  ago  on  the  Derwent- 
water,  in  England,  love  had  grown  with  these  two.  On 
the  night  before  that  meeting,  David  had  reached  Kes- 
wick, where  Una  was  staying.  Skiddaw  and  Helvellyn, 
when  first  he  saw  those  famous  peaks,  were  dimly  out- 


IN  UNA'S  GARDEN  13 

lined  behind  the  evening  mists.  Next  morning  the  sky- 
was  cloudless,  and  although  David  was  familiar  with 
the  scenery  of  Alps,  Andes  and  Himalaya,  the  charm  of 
this  English  landscape  touched  him  deeply.  The  peace- 
ful lake,  surrounded  by  steep  hills  of  living  green,  and 
holding  on  its  breast  thickly  wooded  islands,  stirred  a  new 
longing  within  him.  These  hills,  it  is  true,  were  not  com- 
parable in  height  or  sweeping  contour  to  the  majestic 
altitudes  of  Southern  Asia  or  Western  South  America. 
Neither  was  the  Derwentwater  equal,  in  certain  scenic 
effects,  to  similar  bodies  of  water  that  had  won  his  admi- 
ration in  distant  countries.  Here,  nevertheless.  Nature 
was  revealed  in  her  loveliest  mood,  and  David  yielded 
himself  delightedly  to  her  gracious  influence. 

As  he  floated  dreamily  in  his  skiff  on  the  Derwent- 
water, the  dip  of  his  oars  made  the  only  visible  ripple 
on  the  glassy  surface  of  the  lake,  while  the  rugged  out- 
lines of  the  hills,  drenched  in  sunlight,  seemed  to  weave 
a  fairy  circle  into  which  the  world  of  ordinary  experience 
might  not  enter.  The  scene  reacted  inevitably  on  his 
own  emotions.  For  the  first  time  in  many  months  a 
feeling  of  complete  restfulness  possessed  him,  a  mood 
ripe  for  dreams  and  all  that  hazy  kind  of  speculation 
lying  on  the  borderland  of  dreams.  In  this  mental  state 
he  sought  one  of  the  islands  whose  sylvan  shadows  length- 
ened over  the  water's  sunny  surface.  The  hollow  echo 
from  oar  and  rowlock,  the  grating  of  prow  on  pebbled 
beach,  broke  the  silence  that  had  surrounded  him  ever 
since  he  left  the  little  wharf  at  Keswick.  The  lightest 
of  summer  breezes  stirred  the  topmost  branches  above 
him.  Invitation  was  in  the  air,  rest  beneath  the  trees. 
This  was  surely  the  morning  of  the  world,  and  he  was 


14  THE  GILDED  MAN 

the  discoverer  of  this  nameless  island.  Strange  that  it 
should  be  here,  unmarred,  untouched,  unknown,  in  pop- 
ulous England! 

There  was  welcome  in  the  crackle  of  twigs  beneath  his 
feet;  a  responsive  thrill  from  the  green  moss  upon  which 
he  threw  himself.  As  he  tried  to  catch  the  blue  of  the 
sky  beyond  the  moving  canopy  of  green,  he  idly  won- 
dered whether  he  was  the  first  to  pierce  the  island's 
solitude,  whether  its  secret  had  been  kept  for  him. 

Perhaps  it  was  in  answer  to  his  unuttered  query  that 
the  stillness  was  suddenly  broken  by  the  faintest  echo 
of  silvery  laughter.  He  listened  in  surprise,  for  the  is- 
land was  far  too  small,  he  imagined,  to  screen  either 
house  or  camp  from  the  view  of  any  one  approaching 
it,  and  before  he  left  his  boat  he  had  satisfied  himself 
that  no  other  summer  idler  was  here  before  him.  Never- 
theless, there  was  that  tantalizing  laughter,  coming  from 
a  portion  of  the  island  opposite  the  beach  on  which  he 
had  landed — and  there  was  the  shattering  of  his  day- 
dreams. 

He  parted  the  low-lying  branches  of  some  bushes 
growing  between  him  and  the  shore,  but  could  see  noth- 
ing save  the  clear  expanse  of  lake  upon  which  there 
was  neither  sail  nor  rowboat.  He  perceived,  however, 
judging  by  the  distance  of  the  water  below  him,  that  the 
shore  of  the  island  must  here  become  a  diminutive  cliff, 
in  the  shelter  of  which,  doubtless,  was  the  being  whose 
laughter  he  scarcely  knew  whether  to  welcome  or  shun. 
The  fairy-like  spot  obviously  had  some  prosaic  owner 
who  was  there  to  enjoy  what  was  his — or  hers.  The 
laughter  was  unmistakably  a  woman's. 

David  rose  hastily  from  his  retreat  beneath  the  trees, 


IN  UNA'S  GARDEN  15 

uncertain  whether  to  apologize  for  his  intrusion  or  to  slip 
away  unperceived.  After  all,  the  laughter  chimed  in 
pleasantly  enough  with  his  roving  fancies.  There  had 
been  wood-nymphs  before,  if  one  can  believe  the  old 
romancers,  who  sang  the  carefree  joys  of  the  glens  they 
inhabited — and  perhaps  this  was  a  wood-nymph.  His 
curiosity  aroused,  David  peered  again  through  the 
branches.    This  time  he  saw  her.    . 

She  was  not  a  wood-nymph  of  old  mythology,  but  an 
incarnation  of  the  spirit  of  youth  that  all  morning  had 
pursued  him.  She  was  clad  in  the  simplest  of  sailor 
suits,  the  blouse  of  gray  silk  opening  loosely  about  her 
delicately  moulded  throat  and  neck,  her  hair  straying 
in  tawny  ringlets  over  her  shoulders  and  reaching  down 
to  the  book  which  she  held  in  her  lap.  At  her  side  sat 
an  old  man,  of  stalwart  frame,  white-haired,  with  the 
strongly  lined  face  and  sharpened  features  typical  of  the 
student.  A  wide-brimmed  quaker  hat  lying  at  his  feet 
emphasized  his  freedom  from  the  conventionalities  of 
dress  and  was  in  strict  keeping  with  his  long  black  coat 
and  voluminous  trousers. 

They  were  reading  a  book  together,  a  book  that  had 
evidently  provoked  the  disturbing  laughter  and  brought 
a  grim  look  of  amusement  to  the  old  man's  face.  The 
noise  made  by  David,  however,  broke  up  their  pleasant 
occupation.  The  girl  turned  her  head,  gazing  curiously 
at  the  spot  whence  came  the  sound  of  rustling  leaves. 
What  she  saw  stirred  her  as  nothing  ever  had  before. 
Her  glance  met  David's;  and  to  both  of  them  it  seemed 
as  if  all  their  lives  they  had  been  waiting  for  the  reve- 
lation of  that  moment.    Her  pulse  quickened;  her  cheek 


i6  THE  GILDED  MAN 

paled,  then  grew  rosy  red;  her  gray  eyes  dilated  with 
mingled  alarm  and  pleasure. 

The  sudden,  deep  impression  was  dashed  by  a  singular 
interruption.  The  girl's  companion,  his  back  half  turned 
to  David,  his  face  still  expressive  of  amusement,  and 
looking  straight  before  him  at  the  ripple  of  water  kissing 
the  pebbles  at  his  feet,  spoke  in  a  loud,  harsh  voice: 

"Una,"  he  said,  "remember  the  schoolmaster!  This 
man's  world  is  not  ours.  What  does  he  know  of 
Rysdale?" 

She  looked  down  confusedly,  aware  that  her  uncle — 
for  it  was  Harold  Leighton — without  seeing  this  stranger 
who  had  so  quickly  aroused  her  interest,  spoke  as  if  he 
knew  who  he  was  and  all  about  him.  When  she  looked 
again,  David  was  gone. 

Between  that  first  meeting  and  this  evening,  a  year 
after,  when  they  stood  together  in  Una's  garden  at  Stone- 
leigh,  they  had  lived  through  much  of  Love's  first  golden 
record.  Their  experiences  had  not  always  been  cloud- 
less. Harold  Leighton,  it  is  true,  did  not  actively  oppose 
their  marriage;  but  he  had  borne  himself  in  a  manner 
that  showed,  at  times,  either  a  singular  indifference,  or 
a  covert  mistrust  of  the  man  who  was  so  soon  to  take 
from  him  his  brother's  only  daughter.  It  might  be  from 
jealousy,  it  might  be  from  a  perfectly  natural  feeling 
of  caution;  at  any  rate,  he  never  discussed  their  plans 
with  them,  he  never  explained  his  attitude  towards  them. 
Never  again  did  he  allude  to  the  schoolmaster,  nor  ac- 
count for  the  strange  words  he  had  used  on  the  little 
island  in  Derwentwater. 

For  the  most  part  he  watched  their  courtship  with 
a  sort  of  whimsical  curiosity,  but  always  withholding 


IN  UNA'S  GARDEN  17 

his  assent  from  the  marriage  to  which  they  looked  for- 
ward. Una  was  indignant  at  his  final  attempt  to  sepa- 
rate them.  His  suspicions  and  David's  quixotic  manner 
of  meeting  them  increased  her  faith  in  her  lover.  Never 
before  had  she  been  so  perfectly  happy  as  she  was  this 
evening  with  him  in  the  garden's  autumnal  silence. 

"It  will  soon  be  forever,"  she  whispered. 

"You  are  not  afraid?" 

"If  it  were  possible  for  our  love  to  die,  if  it  were  as 
shortlived  as  the  sunflowers,  if  some  one  had  the  power 
to  take  it  from  us,  I  would  be  afraid.  Tell  me  that 
no  one  has  the  power,  David." 

He  held  her  from  him  for  a  space,  his  eyes  searching 
hers. 

"You  alone  have  the  power,  Una,"  he  said. 

From  a  slowly  moving  figure  amid  the  bushes  behind 
them  came  an  uncompromising  question: 

"David,  you  have  told  her?" 

The  dusky  outline,  the  large  quaker  hat,  the  wide- 
skirted  coat  catching  occasionally  among  the  dry  twigs 
and  branches,  revealed  Harold  Leighton.  He  stood  in 
the  center  of  the  pathway,  his  gray  eyes  fixed  upon  them, 
awaiting  an  answer. 

"David  has  told  me,"  said  Una  firmly. 

"You  have  told  her?"  he  repeated. 

"I  have  told  her  that  I  love  her,"  he  answered. 

"Is  that  all?" 

"I  told  her  that  I  am  unworthy  of  her." 

"Why  are  you  unworthy  of  her?" 

"You  speak  as  if  you  knew  something  against  me," 
said  David.     Then  added  fiercely,  "Tell  it!" 


i8  THE  GILDED  MAN 

With  an  odd  smile  on  his  face  the  old  man  looked  at 
Una. 

"He  says  he  is  unworthy  of  you — ^you  are  free,"  he 
said.     "Una,  how  do  you  choose?" 

She  bowed  her  head  before  her  lover. 

"David,  I  love  you,"  she  said. 

The  old  man  turned  towards  the  house. 

"David,  I  see  your  horse  is  lame;  you  have  ridden 
him  to  death,"  he  said  drily.  "You  had  better  spend 
the  night  at  Stoneleigh." 


m 

A   CHAPTER  ON   GHOSTS 

A  STRANGE  thing  happened  that  night  at  Stone- 
leigh. 

For  the  first  time  in  the  annals  of  the  younger  Rys- 
dale  generation,  the  great  bare  room  at  the  top  of  the 
house,  adjoining  Harold  Leighton's  laboratory,  had  a 
guest.  In  the  days  of  the  St.  Maur  Brotherhood  the 
monks  used  this  room  as  an  oratory.  The  shadowy 
outline  of  a  crucifix,  which  had  once  risen  above  an 
unpretentious  altar,  could  still  be  traced  in  the  rough 
plaster  on  the  narrow  east  wall.  At  either  side  of  this 
crucifix  the  blackened  marks  of  bygone  sconces  were  vis- 
ible, while  in  the  north  and  south  walls  of  the  apartment 
there  still  remained  a  number  of  huge  spikes,  rusty 
with  age  and  swathed  in  cobwebs,  from  which  had  hung 
the  Fourteen  Stations  of  the  Cross. 

Since  the  departure  of  the  monks  this  oratory  had 
been  practically  abandoned  by  their  successors  at  Stone- 
leigh.  The  earlier  members  of  the  Leighton  family  had 
shared  the  dislike  of  their  fellow  townsmen  for  any- 
thing approaching  "papistry."  To  this  prejudice,  as  it 
affected  the  use  of  the  oratory,  was  afterwards  added 
the  belief  that  the  gloomy  chamber  was  still  frequented 
by  certain  ghostly  members  of  the  ancient  Brotherhood 

19 


20  THE  GILDED  MAN 

into  whose  spectral  doings  it  was  just  as  well  not  to  pry 
too  closely.  A  live  monk  was  bad  enough,  according 
to  some  of  Harold  Leighton's  ancestors;  but  a  dead 
monk  who  "haunted"  was  too  disreputable  altogether 
to  have  anything  to  do  with.  Hence,  as  there  was  more 
room  at  Stoneleigh  than  could  profitably  be  used,  it  was 
thought  best  to  close  up  this  ancient  oratory,  leaving  it 
to  such  grim  visitants  from  the  past  as  might  choose 
it  for  a  meeting  place. 

There  had  been  seasons,  however,  when  dust  and  cob- 
webs were  sufficiently  disturbed  to  bring  some  semblance 
of  cheer  into  the  desolate  apartment.  Thus,  the  festiv- 
ities accompanying  the  marriage  of  Una's  grandparents 
had  reached  their  climax  here  in  a  ball  at  which  the  local 
worthies  mingled  with  a  number  of  excellent  persons  from 
that  outside  world  of  fashion  vaguely  known  as  "the 
city."  No  spectral  guest,  tonsured  or  otherwise,  appeared 
on  this  occasion,  and  when  the  revels  were  ended  the 
legend  that  Stoneleigh's  oratory  was  haunted  no  longer 
commanded  the  respect,  or  even  the  interest,  of  the 
credulous. 

That  was  more  than  half  a  century  ago;  and  now 
David  Meudon  was  the  guest  of  this  neglected  cham- 
ber. He  was  in  a  joyous  mood.  A  man  more  tenacious 
of  impressions  could  not  have  thrown  off  so  easily  the 
irritation  caused  by  the  meeting  with  Harold  Leighton 
in  the  garden.  The  elder  man's  suspicions  would  have 
poisoned  whatever  possibility  there  might  be  of  imme- 
diate enjoyment.  The  presence  of  Una,  however,  her 
unqualified  acceptance  of  him,  her  uncle's  suddenly 
changed  attitude,  effectually  dulled  David's  resentment. 
Leighton  had  agreed,  apparently,  to  the  plan  for  an  early 


A  CHAPTER  ON  GHOSTS  21 

wedding,  and  had  even  proposed  that  the  married  couple 
should  live  at  Stoneleigh.  In  spite  of  David's  great 
wealth,  neither  he  nor  his  immediate  ancestors  had  been 
identified  with  a  locality  peculiarly  their  own;  they  had 
never  had  a  family  home.  With  Una,  on  the  contrary, 
the  last  of  the  Leightons,  the  ancestral  tie  that  roots 
itself  under  some  particular  hearthstone  was  especially 
strong.  She  was  pleased,  therefore,  with  the  offer  that 
promised  to  make  Stoneleigh  hers — and  so,  in  the  main, 
was  David. 

He  liked  the  old  house;  its  history  appealed  to  his 
imagination.  He  stood  somewhat  in  awe,  it  is  true,  of 
its  present  owner,  and  the  prospect  of  living  with  him 
did  not  promise  unalloyed  happiness.  But  there  was 
something  about  Harold  Leighton,  a  suggestion  of  mys- 
tery, that  went  well  with  this  ancient  place,  and  com- 
pletely satisfied  David.  He  laughed  at  the  Stoneleigh 
traditions;  but  when  Leighton  proposed  spending  the 
evening  in  the  oratory  he  gladly  assented.  David  had 
never  been  in  this  part  of  the  house,  although  he  had 
often  wanted  to  explore  its  possible  mysteries.  The 
opportunity  to  do  this  had  not  come  until  now. 

"Yes,  there  are  ghosts  here,"  Harold  Leighton  replied 
to  the  young  man's  jesting  query  as  he,  David  and  Una 
entered  the  great  bare  room  together. 

"Then  you  believe  in  ghosts?" 

"Of  course  Uncle  Harold  believes  in  them,"  exclaimed 
Una.    "I  believe  in  them,  and  so  do  you." 

"That  depends.    Show  me  one  and  I  might." 

"Well,"  commented  Leighton;  "this  is  the  ghost  room, 
and  here  we  are.    Perhaps  your  skepticism  will  find 


22  THE  GILDED  MAN 

something  to  try  its  teeth  on.  In  honor  of  St.  Maur 
we  ought  to  have  a  demonstration." 

"Splendid!"  laughed  David.  "But  you  don't  mean  it. 
People  never  mean  what  they  say  when  they  talk  approv- 
ingly of  ghosts.  You  are  known  for  a  skeptic  yourself, 
Mr.  Leighton.  You  accept  nothing  that  has  not  passed 
muster  with  science." 

"There  may  be  a  science  of  ghosts,"  retorted  the 
savant.  "Science  is  not  limited  to  any  department  of 
human  knowledge.  A  scientific  theory  is  based  on  a 
collection  of  facts.  How  do  you  know  I  have  not  made 
a  collection  of  ghost-facts?" 

"And  so  have  a  new  theory  of  ghosts  to  offer!" 

"You  don't  really  think  those  old  monks  come  back, 
uncle?"  objected  Una. 

"Oh,  I'm  not  going  to  tell  the  secrets  of  my  laboratory 
so  easily — and  to  such  a  pair  of  tyros,"  was  the  evasive 
answer. 

They  stood  before  the  great  fireplace  which  a  thrifty 
ancestor  had  built  into  the  east  wall,  and  enjoyed  to 
the  full  the  warmth  that  had  not  as  yet  reached  the 
remote  spaces  of  the  gloomy  chamber.  It  needed  a  fire 
to  bring  some  show  of  comfort  to  this  wilderness  of  dust 
and  cobwebs.  A  few  pieces  of  colonial  furniture  stood 
out  in  the  melancholy  wastes — a  faded  lounge,  a  gar- 
gantuan dresser,  several  stiff-backed  chairs  still  nursing 
their  puritanism.  At  the  far  end  of  the  room  various 
objects  of  a  decidedly  modem  appearance,  suggesting 
the  workshop  of  a  physicist,  aroused  David's  curiosity. 
For  an  explanation  of  these  he  turned  to  Leighton. 

"Is  this  your  laboratory?"  he  asked. 

"What  do  you  think  of  it?"  was  the  reply.    "Plenty 


A  CHAPTER  ON  GHOSTS  23 

of  space,  isn't  there?  A  man  could  have  a  score  of 
ghosts  here — ghosts  of  monks,  you  know — nosing  about 
for  their  comfortable  old  quarters." 

"Not  so  very  comfortable  in  their  day.  Uncle,"  sug- 
gested Una;  "nor  in  ours,  for  that  matter." 

Leighton  chuckled  grimly.  "Are  you  interested  in 
ghosts,  David?"  he  asked,  looking  keenly  at  him. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  ghosts?"  ^ 

"Ah,  that's  it!  This  old  room — are  there  ghosts  in 
it,  I  wonder?  The  nail  marks  in  the  walls,  the  stains 
where  the  lights  were  hung,  the  shadowy  remains  of  the 
altar — can  you  shake  off  the  feeling  that  the  Brotherhood 
is  still  at  prayers  here,  that  it  still  has  Stoneleigh  for  its 
home?" 

"The  Brotherhood  no  longer  exists." 

"There's  a  family  tradition,  anyway,  that  assures  us 
of  its  ability  to  produce  some  excellent  examples  of  the 
old-fashioned,  conventional  ghost.  A  very  great  aunt 
of  mine,  for  instance,  once  ventured  alone  into  this  room 
and  was  met  by  a  stalwart  being  who  scowled  at  her 
from  under  his  brown  hood  and  waved  her  majestically 
out  of  his  presence." 

"That's  the  kind  of  ghost  one  likes  to  hear  about 
and  see,"  commented  David. 

"It  didn't  please  my  aunt  particularly.  The  fright 
prostrated  her  for  months.  Other  imaginative  ancestors 
have  heard  the  monks  chanting  together,  and  seen  spec- 
tral lights  moving  about  here  at  midnight." 

"You  speak  as  if  you  believed  it  all." 

"I  can't  be  defrauded  of  my  family  traditions." 

"How  queer  it  is!"  exclaimed  Una,  who  had  been  wan- 
dering about  the  room  and  now  rejoined  Harold  and 


24  THE  GILDED  MAN 

David  before  the  fireplace.  "I  like  it,  even  if  it  is  dirty. 
Why  have  you  broken  your  rule  and  brought  us  here, 
Uncle?  And  why  do  you  talk  as  if  you  believed  in  the 
Stoneleigh  ghosts?    You  know  you  don't." 

"Ghosts!"  he  ejaculated.  "I  have  been  making  some 
experiments  recently.  I  thought  you  might  be  inter- 
ested in  them." 

"Experiments  in  ghosts,"  ruminated  David,  who  be- 
lieved Leighton  capable  of  anything. 

"Yes,"  said  the  old  man,  enjoying  his  bewilderment. 
"My  ghosts  may  be  different  from  those  you  have  in 
mind.  If  you  have  followed  the  recent  developments  in 
psychology  you  probably  know  that  there  are  ghosts 
attached  to  the  living,  whatever  the  case  may  be  in 
regard  to  the  dead." 

"No,  I  never  heard  that." 

"Not  in  those  words.  'Ghosts'  is  not  a  term  used  by 
the  scientist.  It  involves  a  medieval  superstition.  But 
I  am  interested  in  things  more  than  in  words,  and  I  am 
not  afraid  to  say  that  we  have  been  rediscovering 
ghosts." 

"Uncle,  don't  talk  enigmas — or  nonsense,"  remon- 
strated Una. 

"I  confess,  sir,  I  don't  follow  you,"  added  David. 

"Did  you  ever  feel  that  you  had  lost  yourself?" 
asked  Leighton  abruptly. 

"I  don't  understand." 

"If  you  forget  a  thing,  you  lose  just  that  much  of 
yourself,  don't  you?  When  you  sleep,  you  enter  a  world 
of  dreams.  In  that  world  you  think,  speak,  go  through 
a  set  of  vivid  experiences.  Awake,  you  are  aware  that 
you  have  had  these  vivid  experiences — and  yet,  you  can't 


A  CHAPTER  ON  GHOSTS  25 

possibly  remember  them.  You  are  dimly  conscious  that 
you  were  in  another  world  and  that  while  there  you 
thought,  suffered,  rejoiced,  much  in  the  same  way  that 
you  do  here.  At  times  you  have  a  vague  feeling  that 
you  have  undergone  some  important  crisis  in  your  dream- 
existence,  or  you  wake  up  with  the  sensation  of  having 
reached  some  high  peak  of  happiness.  But  you  cannot 
recall  the  details,  or  even  the  general  outlines,  of  what 
has  happened.  Not  a  scene  of  this  dreamland,  of  which 
you  are  an  occasional  inhabitant,  can  you  picture  to  your 
waking  thought;  nor  does  your  waking  memory  hold  the 
visage,  or  even  the  name,  of  one  of  your  dream-asso- 
ciates." 

"All  this  has  to  do  with  dreams,"  objected  David. 
"It  is  admittedly  unreal." 

"Don't  rely  too  much  on  old  definitions.  A  part  of 
you  that  sleeps  now  does  experience  this  dream-life 
and  finds  it  real.  The  trouble  is,  this  dream  part  of 
you  forgets;  it  is  unable  to  report  to  the  waking  person- 
ality what  it  has  seen. 

"But  it  is  not  only  in  sleep  that  this  dream-person- 
ality takes  the  place  of  that  which  we  call  the  real  self. 
The  opium-eater  inhabits  a  world,  opened  to  him  by  his 
drug,  and  closed,  even  to  his  memory,  when  the  effects 
of  that  drug  wear  off.  Then,  there  is  that  curious  phase 
of  dipsomania  in  which  the  victim,  apparently  possessed 
of  all  his  faculties,  goes  through  actual  experiences — 
travels,  talks  with  people,  transacts  business — and  when 
he  recovers  from  his  fit  of  intoxication  finds  it  impossible 
to  remember  a  single  circumstance  of  the  many  known 
to  him  while  under  the  sway  of  alcohol.  The  phenomena 
of  hypnotism  give  instances  of  similar  independent  men- 


26  THE  GILDED  MAN 

tal  divisions  in  a  single  human  personality.  All  this  is 
the  familiar  material  of  modern  psychology,  out  of  which 
the  scientists  build  strange  and  varied  theories,  I  call 
these  divided,  or  lost,  personalities  'ghosts.'  " 

''Ghosts  of  the  living,  not  of  the  dead." 

"More  uncanny  than  the  old-fashioned  kind,"  mused 
Una.    "Fancy  meeting  one's  own  ghost!" 

"Cases  of  such  meetings  are  on  record;  Shelley's,  for 
instance,"  said  Leighton  drily. 

"The  thing  is  strange  and  worth  investigating.  But," 
added  David  laughingly,  "I  am  not  an  investigator." 

"It  is  fascinating,"  declared  Una  emphatically.  "Tell 
us  more  about  it,  Uncle  Harold.  You  spoke  of  an  ex- 
periment  " 

"The  experiment,  by  all  means,"  said  David.  "Just 
what  is  it?" 

"Trapping  a  ghost,"  was  the  laconic  answer. 

"And  if  you  succeed  in  trapping  it ?" 

"Ah,  then — science  generally  leaves  its  ghosts  to  take 
care  of  themselves.    It's  a  good  rule." 

"You  say  you  are  going  to  trap  a  ghost:  you  don't 
really  mean  that,"  protested  Una. 

"Remember,  there  are  two  kinds  of  ghosts.  As  a 
scientist  I  am  not  interested  in  the  ghosts  of  the  dead. 
If  they  exist  outside  of  fairy  tales  and  theology  let  some 
one  else  hunt  them.  But  I  am  interested  in  the  other 
and  more  profitable  kind — the  ghosts  of  the  living." 

"I  don't  understand,"  said  David. 

"It  needs  explanation.  Remember  what  I  said  as  to 
the  phenomena  presented  by  the  dreamer,  the  hypnotic 
subject,  the  dipsomaniac,  the  narcomaniac.  In  each  of 
these  cases  one  human  mind  seems  capable  of  division 


A  CHAPTER  ON  GHOSTS  27 

into  two  independent  halves.  And  each  half  seems  to 
forget,  or  to  be  ignorant  of  the  doings  of  its  mate.  Now, 
I  am  hunting  for  this  Ghost  of  the  Forgotten." 

"Sounds  romantic,"  remarked  David.  "According  to 
your  theory,  don't  you  need  a  hypnotized  subject — or 
at  least  a  dipsomaniac — for  your  experiment?" 

"No.  The  Ghost  of  the  Forgotten  lurks  in  all  of 
us.  The  man  or  woman  in  whom  this  Ghost  is  not  to 
be  found  is  exceptional.  I  doubt  if  such  a  being  exists 
— a  being  whose  Book  of  the  Past  is  as  clear,  as  legible, 
as  his  Book  of  the  Present." 

"But,  your  experiment.  Uncle,"  demanded  Una;  "show 
it  to  us." 

"I  need  help  for  a  satisfactory  trial.  An  experiment 
isn't  a  picture,  or  a  book,  you  know.  It  needs  a  victim 
of  some  kind.  What  do  you  say,  David?"  he  asked,  turn- 
ing abruptly  to  him. 

"You  want  me  for  the  victim?"  laughed  David.  "I'm 
ready.  Feel  just  like  my  namesake  before  he  tackled 
that  husky  Philistine.    Tell  me  what  I'm  to  do." 

They  were  standing  at  the  fireplace,  Una  with  one  arm 
through  her  lover's,  the  other  resting  on  her  uncle's 
shoulder.  A  scarcely  perceptible  frown  clouded  Leigh- 
ton's  features  before  he  accepted  David's  offer. 

"I  merely  want  you  to  answer  some  questions,"  he 
said  finally.  "You  will  think  them  trivial;  but  I  want 
you  to  answer  them  under  unusual  conditions.  Let  me 
show  you  my  latest  prize  and  explain  things." 

Leighton  strode  to  the  center  of  the  room  and  thence 
down  to  that  end  of  it  where  the  tools  of  his  laboratory 
were  kept.  David  and  Una  followed,  enjoying  the  mo- 
mentary relief  from  the  scrutiny  of  the  old  savant,  who 


28  THE  GILDED  MAN 

was  now,  apparently,  engrossed  in  his  scientific  appa- 
ratus. There  was  not  much  of  the  latter  in  sight,  and 
to  the  novice  unfamiliar  with  the  interior  of  a  physicist's 
laboratory,  and  who  carries  away  a  confused  impression 
of  glass  and  metal  jars,  tubes,  coils  of  wire,  electric  bat- 
teries, revolving  discs,  and  all  the  nameless  paraphernalia 
of  such  a  place,  the  appointments  of  Harold  Leighton's 
workshop  would  seem  simple  enough.  Yet,  the  machine 
before  which  Leighton  paused  comprised  one  of  the 
newest  discoveries  in  this  branch  of  science.  Its  sensa- 
tional purpose  was  to  measure  and  probe  the  mind 
through  the  purely  physical  operations  of  the  body. 

What  appeared  to  be,  at  first  glance,  an  ordinary  gal- 
vanometer stood  by  itself  on  a  table.  Its  polished  brass 
frame,  its  flawless  glass  cylinder  enclosing  the  coils  of 
wire,  recording  discs  and  needle,  suggested  nothing  more 
than  the  instrument,  familiar  to  the  physicist,  by  which 
an  electric  current  is  measured  and  tested.  Connected 
with  this  galvanometer,  however,  was  a  curious  contriv- 
ance consisting  of  a  mirror,  over  the  spotless  surface  of 
which,  when  the  machine  was  in  operation,  a  ray  of  light, 
projected  from  an  electrified  metal  index,  or  finger,  moved 
back  and  forth.  The  exact  course  of  this  ray  of  light, 
the  twists  and  turns  made  by  it  in  traversing  the  mirror, 
was  transferred  by  an  automatic  pencil  to  a  sheet  of 
paper  carried  on  a  revolving  cylinder.  This  paper  thus 
became  a  permanent  record  of  whatever  experiment  had 
been  attempted. 

That  the  subjects  investigated  by  this  unique  galvan- 
ometer were  human  and  not  inanimate  was  indicated 
by  two  electrodes,  attached  by  wires  hanging  from  the 


A  CHAPTER  ON  GHOSTS  29 

machine,  intended  to  be  grasped  by  the  hands  of  a  person 
undergoing  the  test.  Its  use,  also,  as  a  detector  of  human 
thought  and  emotion,  and  not  of  mechanical  force,  was 
described  by  its  name — the  Electric  Psychometer. 


IV 


THE  GHOST  OF   THE  FORGOTTEN 

MODERN  rack  and  thumbscrew,"  exclaimed  David, 
eyeing  curiously  the  machine  whose  gleaming  sur- 
face of  glass  and  polished  metal  was  in  striking  contrast 
with  the  somber  oratory. 

Harold  Leighton  paid  no  heed  to  the  comment.  He 
was  apparently  too  busied  with  some  detail  in  the  com- 
plicated mechanism  before  him  to  attend  to  anything 
else.  David  and  Una,  on  the  other  hand,  were  more 
amused  than  impressed  with  the  odd  kind  of  entertain- 
ment chosen  for  this  memorable  evening  of  their  be- 
trothal by  the  eccentric  scientist,  although  every  now 
and  then  some  unexpected  bit  of  irony  from  him  came 
disconcertingly  enough. 

"Why  should  people,  whose  lives  are  blameless,  think 
of  racks  and  thumbscrews  when  they  see  a  simple  ma- 
chine like  this?"  he  asked  suddenly,  taking  up  David's 
apparently  unnoted  exclamation.  Not  waiting  for  an 
answer,  he  went  on,  as  if  with  a  lecture  to  which  they 
had  been  invited  to  listen. 

"So  far  as  I  know  this  machine  is  the  first  of  its  kind 
to  reach  this  country.  It  is  an  ingenious  development 
of  certain  laws  psychologists  have  been  using  for  some 

30 


THE  GHOST  OF  THE  FORGOTTEN    31 

time  in  their  experiments,  and  is  based  on  a  theory  that 
is,  roughly,  something  like  this: 

"A  thought  is  a  part  of  the  body  that  gives  it  birth. 
Thinking  is  not  confined  to  the  brain.  Like  the  assimi- 
lation of  food,  it  involves  man's  entire  physical  nature. 
In  cases  of  exaggerated  thought  or  emotion — intense 
grief,  fear,  joy — the  physical  effects  are  obvious.  The 
scientist,  however,  claims  that  the  physical  result  from 
a  mental  cause  is  not  confined  to  these  extreme  cases. 
A  thought,  the  presence  of  which  is  not  perceptible  in 
gesture,  facial  expression,  or  the  slightest  visible  emo- 
tion, is,  nevertheless,  communicated  physically  to  every 
part  of  the  body.  Throw  a  stone  into  a  pool  of  water. 
If  the  stone  is  large,  the  waves  caused  by  it  can  be  seen 
until  they  spend  themselves  on  the  shore;  if  it  is  small, 
the  resulting  ripples  become  invisible  long  before  that. 
The  point  is,  the  ripple  exists,  whether  we  see  it  or  not, 
just  as  does  the  wave,  until  it  has  run  its  course. 

"A  thought,  in  its  physical  effect,  is  like  the  stone 
thrown  into  a  pool.  If  it  is  a  big,  exaggerated  thought, 
the  agitation  produced  is  outwardly  visible.  If  it  is 
small,  more  subtle,  less  sensational,  its  physical  effects 
are  invisible,  although,  theoretically,  reaching  in  ripples 
to  the  extremities  of  the  body.  Hence,  the  psychologist's 
problem  is:  to  detect  and  measure  these  invisible,  intan- 
gible ripples  of  the  mind. 

"This  machine,  my  'ghost-hunter,'  solves  the  problem. 
A  Russian  scientist  discovered  that  an  electric  current 
passing  through  the  body  is  affected  by  any  abnormal 
physical,  or  nervous,  activity  there  encountered.  Thought 
is  a  form  of  electric  impulse  and  would,  therefore,  modify 
any  other  electric  force  crossing  its  path.    Hence,  Tar- 


32  THE  GILDED  MAN 

chanoff's  law.  Its  practical  application  means,  the  literal 
measurement  of  our  mental  ripples.  And  this  is  done  by 
the  psychometer." 

"How?"  asked  David. 

"It's  very  simple.  You  hold  these  electrodes  in  your 
hands.  An  electric  current  is  turned  on  and  passes 
through  you.  While  you  are  thus  charged  with  elec- 
tricity, I  throw  the  stone,  the  thought,  into  your  mind. 
The  degree,  or  quality,  of  disturbance  caused  by  this 
thought  modifies  the  electric  current,  the  varying  agita- 
tion of  which  is  made  visible  by  the  movements  of  an 
electric  finger  across  this  mirror.  From  there  it  is  re- 
corded on  the  sheet  of  paper  in  this  cylinder." 

"What  a  horrible  contrivance!"  exclaimed  Una. 

"I  see  how  it  works,"  mused  David,  "except  for  one 
thing.  How  do  you  introduce  the  thought  you  want 
to  measure?" 

"If  I  explain  that  the  experiment  wouldn't  be  pos- 
sible," said  Leighton  with  a  laugh.  "The  thought  must 
come  through  unconscious  suggestion,  or  our  Ghost  of 
the  Forgotten  will  refuse  to  appear.  In  a  way,  it  is 
like  a  game — and  is  more  interesting  than  most  games. 
Did  you  ever  play  the  game  of  twenty  questions?" 

"I  have,"  interjected  Una.  "It's  this  way.  Some- 
thing— a  book,  a  piece  of  furniture,  anything  at  all — is 
chosen  by  one  set  of  players  to  be  guessed  by  the  other 
set.  Then  the  set  who  know  the  secret  have  to  answer 
twenty  questions  about  it,  asked  by  the  other  side.  The 
questions  sound  silly,  but  they  usually  discover  the 
secret." 

"Is  your  experiment  like  Una's  game?"  asked  David. 

"Not  exactly.    Sit  down  in  this  chair  and  you'll  see." 


THE  GHOST  OF  THE  FORGOTTEN  33 

Seated  as  directed,  the  psychometer  stood  a  little  back 
and  at  one  side  of  him. 

"Now,"  said  Leighton,  giving  him  the  electrodes, 
"hold  these,  one  in  each  hand." 

"It's  like  an  electrocution! "  exclaimed  Una.  "Are  you 
very  uncomfortable?" 

"Oh,  quite  the  contrary!     Now,  Mr.  Leighton " 

"Ready?  Here  goes  the  current.  You  will  scarcely 
feel  it." 

Leighton  pulled  out  a  small  lever.  A  faint  humming 
sound  was  heard.  The  electric  finger  on  the  mirror  in 
the  machine  became  suddenly  illuminated. 

"Do  you  feel  it?"  asked  Una. 

"Yes;  it's  rather  nice.  This  hero  business  is  all  right, 
especially  when  you  preside  at  the  performance,  Una." 

"Now  for  your  game  of  twenty  questions,  Uncle 
Harold.  Of  course,  you  are  going  to  let  me  into  the 
secret?" 

"How  can  I?"  he  retorted.    "David  has  the  secret." 

"I  have  it?"  repeated  the  other,  perplexed. 

"Certainly.  But  this  isn't  exactly  a  game.  You'll 
find  it  tedious,  Una.  Why  not  stay  with  Mrs.  Quayle 
in  the  library  until  it's  over?" 

"Nonsense!  Of  course  I'll  stay  here,"  she  replied 
firmly. 

"What  am  I  to  do?"  asked  David.  "Holding  these 
handles  is  easy  enough — but  nothing  happens." 

"Let  me  explain,"  said  Leighton.  "I  am  going  to 
give  you,  one  at  a  time,  a  number  of  disconnected 
words.  As  you  hear  each  word,  you  must  reply  with 
the  first  word  that  suggests  itself  to  your  mind.  For 
instance,  suppose  I  say  'black.'     The  word  gives  rise, 


34  THE  GILDED  MAN 

instantly,  to  some  answering  mental  picture,  and  that 
picture  will  suggest  a  word  with  which  your  experience 
has  associated  it.  Thus,  when  I  say  'black,'  you  may 
think  of  'night';  or,  if  your  thought  goes  by  contra- 
ries, the  word  'white'  may  occur  to  you.  In  any  case, 
tell  me  the  first  word  that  comes  into  your  mind  upon 
hearing  my  word — and  remember  that  the  promptness 
of  your  reply  is  an  important  factor  in  the  experiment." 

"It  sounds  easy,"  remarked  David.    "Let's  begin." 

On  a  small  table  at  which  he  was  standing,  Leighton 
placed  his  watch,  a  writing-pad  and  pencil.  Seating  him- 
self, he  commenced  the  experiment  in  the  way  he  had 
proposed,  noting  each  word  as  he  gave  it  on  the  pad 
before  him,  and  marking  the  number  of  seconds  elapsing 
before  each  of  David's  answers.  Una,  ensconced  in  a 
large  armchair,  watched  the  scene  intently. 

"Theater,"  was  Leighton's  first  word. 

"Music,"  came  the  prompt  reply. 

"Noise." 

"Sleep." 

"Lion." 

"Teeth." 

"Sound." 

"Desert." 

"Ocean." 

"Blue." 
"^  A  long  series  of  similar  question  and  answer-words  fol- 
lowed, apparently  chosen  at  random  and  not  indicating 
any  sequence  of  ideas.  Leighton  spoke  with  exaggerated 
monotony,  his  eyes  fixed  on  David,  his  hand  moving 
with  mechanical  precision  as  he  jotted  down  the  words 
and  the  time  taken  for  each  reply.     Scarcely  any  agi- 


THE  GHOST  OF  THE  FORGOTTEN    35 

tation  was  noticeable  in  the  finger  of  light  upon  the 
mirror,  and  this  part  of  the  experiment  seemed — at  least 
to  Una — a  failure. 

"I  don't  see  what  the  machine  has  to  do  with  it,"  she 
said,  somewhat  puzzled.  "David  could  just  as  well 
answer  your  words  without  holding  those  things  in  his 
hands." 

"Una,"  said  Leighton,  giving  this  as  the  next  question- 
word  and  ignoring  the  interruption. 

David  smiled,  hesitated  a  moment  before  replying, 
while  the  electric  finger  trembled  slightly  and  then  moved, 
slowly  and  evenly,  back  and  forth  across  the  mirror. 

"Light,"  he  answered  softly. 

More  question-words  followed,  most  of  them  receiving 
prompt  answers  and  producing  no  appreciable  effect  in 
the  psychometer.  It  was  noticeable,  however,  that  words 
having  to  do  with  places  gave  a  different  result — a  vibra- 
tion of  the  electric  finger,  indicating,  according  to  the 
theory,  that  they  awakened  a  deeper  interest  than  other 
words  in  David's  mind. 

In  experiments  of  this  kind  the  operator's  choice  of 
words  is  carefully  made,  as  a  rule,  and  not  left  to  chance. 
They  usually  have  a  certain  continuity  of  meaning.  The- 
oretically, also,  the  operator's  personality  is  kept  in  the 
background,  so  that  the  subject  is  freed  from  any  emo- 
tional impulse  save  that  created  in  him  by  the  question- 
words.  But  there  is  always  the  possibility  that  this  per- 
sonality will  unconsciously  influence  the  subject's  mind, 
which  is  thus  impelled  in  directions  it  might  not  other- 
wise take.  Hypnotism  may  thus,  unintentionally,  play 
a  part  in  an  experiment  of  this  kind,  and  the  subject 


36  THE  GILDED  MAN 

made  to  follow,  in  the  words  uttered  and  the  degree  of 
emotion  displayed,  his  inquisitor's  suggestions. 

It  would  be  hard  to  tell  whether  hypnotism  gradually 
came  into  Leighton's  experiment  with  David.  Certain 
it  is  that  as  the  trial  went  on  a  change  came  over  the 
two  men.  Their  features  grew  tense,  they  were  as  vigi- 
lant to  thrust  and  parry  in  this  game  of  words  as  two 
fencers  fighting  on  a  wager  whose  loss  would  mean  much 
to  either  of  them.  In  David  anxiety  was  more  marked. 
The  electric  finger  in  the  psychometer,  unconsciously 
controlled  by  him,  moved  more  rapidly  and  with  greater 
irregularity  over  the  face  of  the  mirror.  At  times  it 
remained  fixed  in  one  place;  then,  with  Leighton's  utter- 
ance of  some  new  word,  it  would  leap  spasmodically  for- 
ward, in  a  jagged  line  of  light  which  would  be  recorded 
automatically  on  the  cylinder  at  the  back  of  the  machine. 

David  could  not  see  what  was  happening  in  the  psy- 
chometer. Outwardly  he  showed  no  emotion,  except  the 
anxiety  to  hold  his  own  in  this  word  duel  with  Leighton. 
Nevertheless,  the  electric  current  passing  through  him 
registered  a  series  of  impressions  that  grew  in  variety  and 
intensity.  Theoretically,  these  impressions  were  David's 
thoughts  and  feelings  acting  upon  the  electric  finger; 
and  thus  the  line  of  light  traced  upon  the  mirror  wa3 
really  a  picture  of  his  own  mind. 

For  Una  the  affair  had  lost  its  first  element  of  com- 
edy. The  meaningless  words,  the  monotonous  serious- 
ness with  which  they  were  uttered,  seemed,  in  the  begin- 
ning, a  delicious  bit  of  fooling  improvised  for  her  benefit. 
She  delighted  in  the  original,  the  unexpected,  and  noth- 
ing, certainly,  could  be  more  foreign  to  the  customary 
betrothal  night  entertainment  than  this  ponderous  pair- 


THE  GHOST  OF  THE  FORGOTTEN    37 

ing  of  words  between  her  lover  and  her  uncle.  The 
real  purpose  of  the  experiment  had  not  impressed  her. 
The  talk  about  ghosts  gave  an  amusing  background  to 
it;  but  this  was  afterwards  spoiled,  it  is  true,  by  the 
tedious  discussion  of  psychological  problems.  Of  course, 
Una  assured  herself,  this  experiment — or  this  game — 
was  a  psychological  problem,  and  she  felt  certain  David 
would  solve  it,  whatever  it  might  be,  in  the  cleverest 
fashion. 
t^  Had  Una  understood  from  the  first  just  what  Leighton 
intended  by  his  proposed  "ghost-hunt"  she  would  have 
followed  more  keenly  the  details  of  this  novel  pastime. 
As  it  was,  these  details  appeared  to  have  no  intelligible 
object  in  view  and  failed  to  arouse  her  interest  until 
some  little  time  had  elapsed.  Then  she  began  specu- 
lating on  the  meaning  of  her  uncle's  disconnected  words 
and  wondering  why  they  drew  from  David  just  the  re- 
plies they  did.  More  to  amuse  herself  than  anything 
else  she  compared  the  images  which  these  words  evidently 
aroused  in  David's  mind  with  the  images  suggested  to 
her. 

For  "ship,"  he  gave  "sky";  she  thought  of  "water." 
"Mountain"  produced  "tired";  she  would  have  said 
"view."  Her  word  for  "river"  was  "rowing";  his  "sun- 
shine." He  said  "mystery"  for  "Africa";  she,  "negroes." 
His  words  were  never  the  same  as  hers,  a  fact  indicating 
the  wide  differences  in  their  individual  experiences.  More 
singular  still,  David's  words  were  always  remote,  in 
meaning  or  association,  from  the  question-words  to  which 
they  were  the  answer;  hers  were  quite  the  opposite.  Why, 
she  asked  herself,  did  he  say  "anger"  in  response  to 


38  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"India";  "misery"  to  "temple";  "joy"  to  "ocean"; 
"lost"  to  "guide";  "slave"  to  "friend"? 

As  the  experiment  progressed  most  of  her  uncle's  words 
were  bound  together,  Una  noticed,  by  a  similarity  in 
character.  She  even  fancied  she  could  detect  in  them 
the  disjointed  bones  of  a  story.  Most  of  these  words 
had  to  do  with  foreign  travel,  and  as  David  was  known 
to  have  visited  many  countries  it  was  natural  that  the 
test  should  follow  this  line,  especially  as  this  was  a  quest 
for  the  Ghost  of  the  Forgotten.  In  this  connection  it 
was  noticeable  that  the  series  of  words  chosen  by  Leigh- 
ton  reversed  the  itinerary  which  Una  was  certain  David 
had  followed.  Thus,  the  first  question-words  indicated 
the  English  Lake  region,  where  David  had  ended  his 
travels.  Then  came  various  European  countries,  and 
after  these  Morocco,  Egypt,  Arabia,  India,  China,  the 
Islands  of  the  Pacific  and  the  western  coast  of  America. 
Supposing  that  Leighton  had  David's  actual  itinerary 
in  mind,  he  was  going  over  it  by  a  series  of  backward 
steps,  and  had  now  reached  a  point  at  which,  as  Una 
remembered,  the  long  journey  began.  With  each  back- 
ward step,  also,  she  noted  that  the  agitation  of  the  elec- 
tric finger  in  the  psychometer  increased.  David  could 
not  see  what  was  happening  in  the  machine  behind  him, 
although  it  was  his  own  emotions  that  were  being  re- 
corded there.  Why  was  he  so  agitated?  Why  did  he 
try  to  hide  his  feelings?  Why  did  these  simple  words 
from  Leighton  have  such  power  over  him?  As  Una  asked 
herself  these  questions  her  sympathy  for  him  increased, 
and  she  awaited  the  end  of  the  experiment  with  anxiety. 

Leighton  paused  after  David  matched  his  question- 
word,  "California,"  with  "home."     The  electric  finger 


THE  GHOST  OF  THE  FORGOTTEN    39 

threw  a  tremulous  line  of  light  upon  the  recording  mir- 
ror, and  in  both  men  the  indifference  shown  when  they 
began  this  strange  game  was  lacking.  The  expectancy 
in  David's  face  changed  to  defiance  as  "California"  was 
followed  by  the  question-word  "ship."  The  electric  finger 
gave  a  swift  upward  flash,  and  there  was  a  longer  pause 
than  usual  before  the  answer  came — "storm."  "Pacific" 
was  met  by  "palm  trees";  and  these  were  followed  by 
"land,"  "Indians";  "hotel,"  "strangers";  "natives," 
"lost";  "clew,"  "wealth." 

With  the  last  pair  of  words  the  agitation  recorded  in 
the  psychometer  reached  its  highest  point.  David's  face 
was  pale,  his  features  drawn,  his  grasp  on  the  electrodes 
tense.  Una  could  not  bear  to  witness  his  struggle.  Al- 
though ignorant  of  the  cause,  his  suffering  was  all  too 
evident,  and  she  determined  to  rescue  him  at  once  from 
her  uncle's  cruelty.  Leighton  met  her  appeal  with  char- 
acteristic coolness,  ignoring  her  demand  to  bring  the 
experiment  to  an  end.  But  he  changed  the  sequence  of 
words  he  had  been  using. 

"Homer"  was  the  next  question-word  given. 

The  effect  was  immediate.  David  looked  at  the  old 
man  with  astonishment.  The  jerky  motion  of  the  electric 
finger  ceased,  while  instead  an  even  line  of  light  was 
traced  over  the  mirror.  The  answer-word  came  promptly 
this  time:     "Iliad." 

A  series  of  similar  words  followed,  and  as  the  experi- 
ment took  this  new  direction  David's  nervousness  van- 
ished. Then,  without  warning,  the  travel  series  was 
taken  up  again;  and  this  time  each  word  came  like  the 
blow  of  a  hammer  upon  a  nail  that  is  swiftly  and  surely 
driven  to  its  mark. 


40  THE  GILDED  MAN 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  result.  David's  limbs 
stiffened,  as  if  to  ward  off  a  blow.  His  look  of  relief 
gave  place  to  a  hopeless  sort  of  misery;  the  telltale 
electric  finger  jumped  forward  in  exaggerated  lines  as 
if  to  escape  from  some  merciless  pursuer. 

"South  America,"  demanded  Leighton. 

"Spaniards,"  after  a  pause,  was  David's  answering 
word. 

"Mountains." 

"Muleback." 

"Lake." 

"Gold." 

The  answers  were  hesitatingly  given,  almost  inaud- 
ible.   Again  Una  protested. 

"Stop!"  she  commanded.    "You  have  no  right " 

Leighton  waved  her  imperiously  aside. 

"Dynamite,"  he  continued,  addressing  David. 

"Darkness,"  came  the  hesitating  answer. 

"Raoul  Arthur." 

Silence.  A  weird  dance,  as  of  some  mocking  spirit, 
seized  the  electric  finger  pointing  at  the  mirror.  Una 
knelt  at  David's  side,  her  hands  upon  his  shoulders. 
His  lips  quivered  as  he  looked  despairingly  at  her. 

"Guatavita,"  said  Leighton  harshly. 

No  answer.  The  electrodes  slipped  from  David's 
grasp.    The  finger  of  light  became  suddenly  motionless. 

David  had  fallen,  unconscious,  in  Una's  arms. 


THE   SEARCH  FOR  EL  DORADO 

tsT    EAVE  him  with  me,"  said  Leighton.    "Wait  for  us 
•L'  with  Mrs.  Quayle." 

"No!  No!"  answered  the  girl  passionately,  kneeling 
beside  David,  who  was  lying  on  the  couch.  "You  have, 
killed  him!" 

"Don't  talk  nonsense,"  he  said  coldly,  yet  with  sym- 
pathy in  his  keen  gray  eyes.  "This  had  to  be,  and  I  took 
my  own  way  about  it.  Now,  go.  He  is  all  right.  He 
is  safe  with  me." 

David  drew  a  long  breath.  He  looked  vacantly  at 
Leighton,  then  turned  to  Una. 

"Do  as  he  says,"  he  whispered. 

"David,  I  will  stay  with  you." 

"Not  now;  I  must  speak  to  your  uncle." 

"David!" 

She  looked  into  his  eyes,  trying  to  read  there  the  mys- 
tery that  was  parting  them. 

"It  will  be  better  for  all  of  us,"  said  Leighton  gruffly. 

Unable  to  hide  her  fears,  Una  rose  and  moved  away 
from  them.  The  boards  of  the  well  worn  floor  creaked 
harshly  as  she  walked  to  the  far  end  of  the  room.  Paus- 
ing at  the  door,  she  looked  back. 

"I  will  wait  for  you,"  she  said. 
41 


42  THE  GILDED  MAN 

When  the  sound  of  her  footsteps  died  away,  David 
turned  to  the  old  man,  who  was  busied  with  his  scientific 
apparatus. 

"Well,  how  do  you  feel?''  asked  Leighton,  gathering 
up  the  notes  which  were  strewn  on  the  little  table. 

"Curiously  here,"  replied  David,  drawing  his  hand 
across  his  forehead.  Then  he  asked:  "How  did  you 
know?" 

"That's  easily  answered.  About  two  years  ago  I  read, 
in  the  Journal  of  Psychology,  a  paper  by  your  friend, 
Raoul  Arthur,  describing  the  strange  mental  effect  pro- 
duced on  a  young  man  by  a  dynamite  explosion  in  a 
South  American  mine.  Arthur  is  something  of  an  author- 
ity in  abnormal  psychology,  and  his  report  of  the  acci- 
dent interested  me.  The  name  of  the  young  man  was 
not  given.  I  made  inquiries  long  before  our  chance 
meeting  with  you  in  England.  I  learned,  among  other 
things,  who  the  young  man  was.  Before  we  met  on  the 
Derwentwater,  I  had  watched  you  at  the  hotel." 

"You  wrote  to  Raoul  Arthur?" 

"I  did  not,"  he  answered  drily.  "A  newspaper  account 
of  the  accident  gave  me  the  clue  I  needed.  According 
to  this  account,  you  were  killed  in  the  mine  explosion, 
and  no  trace  of  your  body  or  clothing  was  found.  It 
was  long  afterwards,  in  Arthur's  report,  that  your  reap- 
pearance, under  peculiar  circumstances,  was  described. 
Since  then  I  have  learned  of  your  travels.  But  I  have 
noticed  that  you  always  avoid  any  reference  to  your 
South  American  experiences.  So,  I  appealed  to  the 
psychometer." 

Leighton,  absorbed  in  his  notes,  was  apparently  un- 


THE  SEARCH  FOR  EL  DORADO  43 

aware  of  the  eagerness  with  which  David  followed  his 
explanation. 

"It's  all  very  simple,"  mused  the  young  man.  "And 
yet,  it  seemed  like  necromancy." 

"Science  is  not  necromancy." 

"But  the  report,"  urged  David;  "I  didn't  know  Raoul 
had  written  a  report." 

"You  know  he  is  a  psychologist,  a  hypnotist?" 

"Yes,"  was  the  answer,  with  something  of  a  shudder. 
"But — why  all  this  elaborate  experiment  of  yours?" 

"To  prove  a  theory — and  to  be  certain  about  you." 

"Why?" 

"What  a  question!  You  expect  to  marry  Una.  Be- 
fore your  marriage  takes  place — if  it  does  take  place — 
I  wish  to  clear  up  whatever  mystery  there  is  hanging 
over  your  past." 

"And  your  experiment  has  shown  you ?"  David 

asked  in  a  low  voice. 

"It  confirms  the  theories  of  Tarchanoff  and  Jung," 
he  replied  pedantically.  "It  proves  the  intimate  con- 
nection existing  between  mental  and  physical  phenomena. 
The  personal  result  is  still  incomplete.  On  that  side  I 
must  know  more." 

"I  will  tell  you  what  I  can,"  said  David  resolutely. 
"But  first — what  has  Raoul  written  about  me?" 

"Merely  a  reference.  Read  it  after  you  have  told  me 
your  story.  Our  experiment  is  still  unfinished,  you 
know." 

"Unfortunately,  I  can't  tell  you  the  very  thing  you 
want  to  know.  The  series  of  words  in  your  test  seemed 
to  revive  some  forgotten  nightmare;  and  the  horror  of  it 
was  that  this  nightmare  kept  just  beyond  my  reach — 


44  THE  GILDED  MAN 

as  it  always  does — its  riddle  unsolved.  This,  with  your 
strange  knowledge  of  what  had  happened,  surprised  me 
into  this  ridiculous  weakness." 

"So  I  thought,"  said  Leighton.  "Now,  what  do  you 
remember?" 

"I'll  have  to  go  back  a  little.  But — ^you  probably 
know  it  all,  you  know  so  much  of  my  history." 

"Never  mind.  I  want  you  to  prove  the  truth  of  what 
I  know." 

David  looked  at  Leighton  doubtfully. 

"Very  well,"  he  said,  "I'll  do  what  I  can." 

Much  of  his  story,  as  he  told  it,  was  decidedly  vague. 
In  the  main  outline,  however,  it  was  simple  enough, 
although  ending  in  a  mystery  that  he  was  unable  to 
clear  up. 

Three  years  ago,  it  seems,  David  went  to  work  on  a 
project  based  on  a  legend  belonging  to  prehistoric 
America.  Traditions  of  the  immense  wealth  and  the 
civilization  found  in  certain  parts  of  South  America  by 
the  Spanish  conquerors  had  always  fascinated  him.  And 
of  all  these  traditions  the  one  telling  of  El  Dorado, 
the  Gilded  Man,  interested  him  most. 

From  the  early  South  American  chronicles  he  learned 
that,  within  a  few  years  of  Pizarro's  discovery  of  Peru, 
three  other  explorers,  starting  independently  from  points 
on  the  Caribbean  and  Pacific  coasts,  after  months  of 
perilous  adventure,  reached  a  great  tableland  in  the 
Upper  Andes,  where  Bogota,  the  capital  of  Colombia, 
now  stands.  It  was  "El  Dorado"  who  drew  these  ex- 
plorers thither.  From  the  Indians  on  the  coast  they  had 
heard  stories  of  the  great  Man  of  Gold,  v/ho  lived  among 
the  mountains  of  the  interior  and  who  possessed  treasure 


THE  SEARCH  FOR  EL  DORADO  45 

so  vast  that  all  the  wealth  of  the  rest  of  the  world  could 
not  equal  it.  Arrived  in  this  mysterious  region,  they 
found,  not  El  Dorado,  but  a  superior  race  of  people, 
somewhat  like  the  ancient  Peruvians,  showing,  in  the 
barbaric  splendor  of  their  temples  and  palaces,  every 
evidence  of  wealth  and  culture.  These  people,  however, 
known  as  the  Chibchas  from  their  worship  of  the  god 
Chibchacum,  were  suspicious  of  the  Spaniards.  A  war 
of  conquest  followed,  in  which  thousands  of  the  natives 
were  massacred  and  their  finest  temples  and  monuments 
destroyed.  Sajipa,  the  Chibcha  king,  was  subjected  to 
the  cruelest  torture  by  his  conquerors  in  their  effort  to 
find  out  from  him  where  he  had  hidden  his  treasure. 
But  he  proved  hero  enough  to  suffer  martyrdom  rather 
than  reveal  the  secret.  For  this  he  was  put  to  death, 
and  the  Spaniards  contented  themselves  with  the  triv- 
ial amount  of  gold  and  emeralds  extorted  from  his  sub- 
jects. They  then  established  themselves  in  colonies  on 
the  Plains  of  Bogota.  The  climate  was  delightful,  the 
land  fertile  and,  as  they  soon  discovered,  rich  in  min- 
erals. From  the  few  surviving  Indians  they  learned 
some  of  the  native  legends.  In  one  of  these,  the  legend 
of  El  Dorado,  they  believed  they  had  the  clew  to  the 
treasure  they  had  been  seeking.  This  legend  was  mixed 
up  with  the  ancient  mythology  of  the  Chibchas,  and 
had  played  a  leading  part  in  their  religious  ceremonial 
for  centuries  before  the  arrival  of  the  Spaniards.  It 
was  as  follows: 

On  the  edge  of  the  Bogota  tableland,  not  many  miles 
from  the  city  that  is  to-day  the  capital  of  Colombia, 
there  is  a  lake,  Guatavita — the  Sacred  Lake  of  the  Chib- 
chas.    Geologically,  it  is  a  pocket  formed  by  a  cluster 


46  THE  GILDED  MAN 

of  spurs  near  the  foot  of  a  conical  mountain.  It  is 
small,  circular  in  shape,  and  reaches  a  central  depth  of 
214  feet.  Beneath  this  lake,  according  to  tradition, 
lived  the  national  god,  Chibchacum.  To  keep  on  the 
right  side  of  this  god,  to  make  atonement  for  the  people, 
a  semi-annual  feast  was  observed — the  Feast  of  El 
Dorado. 

Twice  a  year  the  king  of  the  Chibchas,  in  celebrating 
this  Feast,  was  floated  on  a  raft  to  the  center  of  the 
Sacred  Lake.  He  was  then  stripped  of  his  royal  robes, 
his  body  anointed  with  oil  and  covered  with  gold  dust. 
Glittering  in  the  sunlight  this  Gilded  Man  stood  at  the 
edge  of  the  royal  raft  and  was  saluted  by  his  subjects, 
who  encircled  the  shores  of  the  lake,  each  one  bearing 
an  offering  of  gold  and  emeralds.  Then,  as  if  dazzled 
by  the  splendor  of  their  monarch,  the  people  reverently 
turned  their  faces  away  from  him  and,  at  a  signal  from 
the  priests,  threw  their  treasures  over  their  heads  into 
the  lake,  while  the  Gilded  Man,  followed  by  the  heaps 
of  precious  stones  and  metals  which  were  with  him  on 
the  raft,  plunged  into  its  waters.  No  god  ever  received 
such  a  shower  of  wealth  at  his  shrine  as  was  thus  lavished 
twice  a  year,  for  centuries,  on  the  god  Chibchacum.  All 
this  wealth,  except  an  insignificant  sum  that  the  Span- 
iards rescued,  is  to-day,  according  to  the  legend,  at  the 
bottom  of  Guatavita. 

Besides  this  semi-annual  tribute,  it  was  rumored  that 
at  the  time  of  Sajipa's  murder  the  entire  remaining 
treasure  of  the  Chibchas  had  been  thrown  into  the  lake, 
not  as  a  votive  offering,  but  as  a  means  of  hiding  it 
from  the  Spaniards.  It  took  fifty  men,  so  runs  tradi- 
tion, to  carry  the  gold  dust  to  Guatavita  from  the  king's 


THE  SEARCH  FOR  EL  DORADO  47 

treasury  alone.  All  the  minor  chieftains  of  the  king- 
dom made  a  similar  sacrifice  of  their  possessions  on  this 
occasion. 

Years  afterwards,  the  Spaniards,  stirred  by  these 
stories,  attempted  to  drain  the  lake.  This  meant  the 
piercing  of  earth  and  rock  walls  nearly  nine  hundred 
feet  thick  and  proved  too  great  an  undertaking  for  the 
engineering  machinery  that  they  had  in  those  days.  But 
before  they  gave  up  the  work  they  succeeded  in  low- 
ering the  level  of  the  lake  sufficiently  to  recover  a  certain 
^I^t-T  amount  of  treasure.  Since  that  time  the  secret  of  Gua- 
tavita  has  remained  undisturbed.  To  solve  it  David 
went  to  Bogota.  Raoul  Arthur,  who  had  done  most  of 
the  practical  planning  for  the  expedition,  went  with 
him. 

The  motives  of  the  two  men  engaged  in  the  enterprise 
were  not  exactly  similar.  David,  according  to  what  he 
told  Leighton,  hoped  to  solve  an  archaeological  riddle  and 
to  study  a  hitherto  lost  people  whose  prehistoric  civiliza- 
tion equaled  that  of  their  neighbors,  the  Inc£is  of  Peru. 
Arthur,  on  the  contrary,  whose  fortune  was  still  to  be 
made,  regarded  it  frankly  as  a  mining  scheme  that  prom- 
ised fabulous  returns  in  money,  with  a  comparatively 
small  amount  of  risk  and  labor.  The  two  points  of 
view  were  not  antagonistic,  and  for  a  time  the  friends 
worked  amicably  enough  together.  In  Bogota  they  eas- 
ily secured  from  the  government  the  necessary  permit  to 
drain  Guatavita.  But  the  attractions  of  the  Colombian 
capital,  the  hospitality  with  which  they  were  received, 
delayed  the  actual  working  out  of  their  plans.  Fasci- 
nated by  the  romance  of  this  picturesque  city  and 
charmed  by  the  unique  race  of  mountaineers  inhabiting 


48  THE  GILDED  MAN 

it,  David  postponed  the  prosaic  task  of  mining,  while 
Raoul  became  absorbed  in  studies  relating  to  their  pro- 
posed venture,  meeting  people  with  whom  his  companion 
seldom  came  in  contact.  Lake  Guatavita  and  its  secret 
was  thus,  for  a  time,  forgotten — at  least  by  David. 

When  the  social  gayeties  of  the  capital  were  exhausted, 
he  took  up  in  earnest  the  work  he  had  planned  to  do. 
He  bought  a  full  equipment  of  the  best  mining  machin- 
ery and  hired  a  large  number  of  laborers.  But  the 
enterprise  proved  more  difficult  than  he  expected.  The 
Spaniards,  who  had  worked  at  the  problem  three  cen- 
turies before,  were  bound  to  fail  on  account  of  their 
lack  of  engineering  machinery.  To  empty  Lake  Guata- 
vita, they  tried  to  cut  through  the  mountain  which 
formed  one  of  the  containing  walls  of  that  body  of  water. 
Under  the  circumstances  their  partial  success  was  amaz- 
ing. The  V-shaped  gash  they  cut  through  the  mountain 
is  a  proof  of  their  industry,  even  if  it  failed  of  its  full 
purpose.  But  it  did  lower  ^;he  level  of  the  lake — although 
this  result  was  followed  by  an  unforeseen  catastrophe. 
The  sudden  release  of  the  water  through  the  channel 
opened  for  it  left  the  precipitous  shores  of  the  lake  unsup- 
ported. These  shores  then  caved  in,  covering  whatever 
treasure  there  might  be  in  the  center  of  the  basin  with 
masses  of  rock  and  earth,  and  thus  placing  a  new  obstacle 
in  the  way  of  the  future  miner. 

David  and  Raoul  took  the  problem  from  a  different 
angle.  They  abandoned  the  old  cuttings  of  the  Span- 
iards and  planned  a  tunnel  through  the  thinnest  part  of 
the  mountain  to  the  bottom  of  the  lake.  In  this  way 
they  hoped  to  control  the  outflow  of  water,  after  which, 
they  calculated,  the  recovery  of  the  treasure  would  be 


THE  SEARCH  FOR  EL  DORADO  49 

a  mere  matter  of  placer  mining.  To  do  this  they  had 
boring  machines  and  dynamite — modern  giants,  of  whose 
existence  the  old  Spaniards  never  dreamed. 

As  a  first  test  of  the  existence  of  treasure  in  the  lake, 
native  divers  explored  some  of  the  shallow  places  near 
the  shore.  A  few  ancient  gold  images  were  thus  secured, 
enough  to  corroborate  the  legend  regarding  Guatavita. 
These  images  were  curiously  carved.  One  represented 
a  small  human  figure  seated  in  a  sort  of  sedan  chair. 
Another  was  a  heart-shaped  breastplate  upon  which  were 
embossed  human  faces  and  various  emblems.  Others 
were  statuettes,  rude  likenesses,  probably,  of  those  who 
threw  them  into  the  lake  as  votive  offerings. 

These  gold  tokens  spurred  on  the  miners.  Work  on 
the  tunnel  was  rushed,  and  a  subterranean  passage,  sev- 
eral hundred  feet  in  length,  directed  to  a  point  just  below 
the  bottom  of  the  lake,  was  soon  completed.  Then  a 
peculiarly  hard  rock  formation  was  reached  that  the 
boring  machines  could  not  pierce.  To  overcome  it, 
dynamite  was  used. 

"Since  dynamite  was  one  of  the  final  words  in  your 
test,"  said  David,  in  telling  his  story  to  Leighton,  *'you 
know  that  its  use  in  our  venture  brings  the  climax  of 
my  mining  experience.  How  to  explain  this  climax  to 
you — or  to  myself — is  beyond  me. 

"When  we  decided  to  use  dynamite  in  our  excavations, 
a  long  fuse  was  laid  from  the  tunnel's  entrance  to  the 
unyielding  wall  at  the  other  end.  There  this  fuse  was 
connected  with  a  dynamite  charge  placed  in  the  crevice 
of  the  rock  to  be  destroyed.  Raoul,  waiting  to  set  off 
the  fuse,  remained  at  the  opening  of  the  tunnel.  I 
was  at  the  further  end,  looking  after  the  laying  of  the 


so  THE  GILDED  MAN 

dynamite.  As  I  started  for  the  entrance,  I  was  a  little 
behind  the  others.  The  latter  no  sooner  gained  the  outer 
air  than  a  muffled  roar  shook  the  tunnel.  The  ground 
swayed,  the  terrific  concussion  of  air  seemed  to  rend 
my  very  brain,  and  I  fell  unconscious." 

David's  story  came  abruptly  to  an  end.  Pale  and  list- 
less, wearied  by  the  effort  to  give  a  coherent  account  of 
his  experiences,  he  looked  hopelessly  at  Leighton. 

"Well,"  said  the  latter,  ''what  then?" 

"If  I  could  only  tell  you!" 

"Surely,  you  remember  something — there  is  some 
clew " 

"Nothing!     Just — darkness." 

"Some  faint  flashes  here  and  there — ^glimpses  of 
people,  scenes,  a  house,  a  street — the  sound  of  voices,  a 
word ?" 

"Nothing!" 

"Try  to  remember." 

"No  use.  I've  tried  it  too  often.  It's  all  a  blank.  I 
thought,  for  an  instant,  that  in  your  psychometer  test 
the  veil  would  be  lifted.  Instead — ^as  you  know — I 
went  to  pieces." 

"Very  well,"  said  Leighton  reassuringly,  "let  us  go 
back  to  your  story.  You  were  in  the  tunnel  when  the 
dynamite  went  off.  You  were  thrown  to  the  ground; 
you  lost  consciousness.  What  is  the  next  step  in 
memory?" 

"Wait,"  said  David  slowly.  "The  explosion  was  on 
the  ninth  of  May.  The  date  was  indelibly  fixed  in  my 
mind;  I  have  verified  it  since.  When  I  recovered  con- 
sciousness  " 


THE  SEARCH  FOR  EL  DORADO  51 

•'You  mean,  your  normal  consciousness,"  interjected 
Leighton. 

"Very  well.  When  I  came  to  myself,  then,  it  was  on 
the  morning  of  the  fifth  of  August." 

"Nearly  three  months  afterwards,"  ruminated  the  old 
man.    "You  found  yourself ?" 

"Seated  in  a  chair,  in  a  room  in  a  strange  house  in 
Bogota." 

"Alone?" 

"Raoul  Arthur  was  with  me.  He  was  bending  over 
me,  his  eyes  fixed  on  mine,  making  passes  with  his  hand 
before  my  face." 

"You  were  in  a  hj^notic  trance." 

"I  was  coming  out  of  one  apparently." 

"It  would  be  hard  to  define  your  condition.  Of  course, 
after  the  explosion  you  had  been  picked  up  and  carried 
to  this  house  in  Bogota,  where  you  had  remained,  suffer- 
ing from  a  severe  nervous  shock — perhaps  concussion  of 
the  brain — for  three  months." 

"I  had  been  in  that  house  scarcely  an  hour  before  my 
memory  was  suddenly  revived." 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  demanded  Leighton  sharply. 

"The  rainy  season  was  on  in  August  in  Bogota.  I 
found  myself  in  my  riding  dress.  My  rubber  poncho, 
dripping  with  rain,  was  on  the  floor.  My  boots,  the 
spurs  still  attached  to  the  heels,  were  caked  with  mud." 

"And  Arthur  told  you ?" 

"At  first,  I  was  bewildered,  as  one  is  when  suddenly 
aroused  from  a  long  sleep.  With  full  return  of  conscious- 
ness, I  asked  Raoul  how  I  came  to  be  there.  He  said 
he  didn't  know." 

"He  must  have  given  some  explanation." 


52  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"Very  little.  What  he  said  mystified  me  more  than 
ever.  He  declared  that  a  short  time  before  a  messenger 
had  come  saying  that  I  was  in  the  house,  waiting  for 
him." 

"Whose  house  was  it?" 

"Raoul's.  He  had  rented  it  two  months  before  and 
was  living  in  it  alone  with  two  servants  who  were  run- 
ning it  for  him." 

"And  this  messenger ?" 

"An  Indian,  whom  neither  of  us  saw  or  heard  of  again, 
although  we  inquired  high  and  low." 

"The  servants  must  have  had  information  to  give?" 

"On  being  questioned  they  said  I  had  arrived  that 
morning  on  horseback,  with  an  Indian,  who  left  me 
there.  This  Indian  was  probably  the  messenger  who 
informed  Raoul  of  my  arrival,  and  who  afterwards  dis- 
appeared.   My  horse  was  tethered  in  the  courtyard." 

"The  clews  seem  to  have  been  pretty  well  obliterated," 
remarked  Leighton  sarcastically.  "But  Arthur  must  have 
been  able  to  shed  some  light  on  the  affair." 

"He  said  that  when  he  found  me,  I  did  not  recognize 
him  and  was  in  a  sort  of  dazed  mental  state.  Then  he 
tried  hypnotism.  He  had  often  hypnotized  me  before 
that,  and  was  thus  familiar  with  my  condition  while  in  a 
trance.  Well,  as  soon  as  he  saw  me,  after  my  long  dis- 
appearance, he  declared  that  I  showed  every  symptom 
of  hypnotic  trance.  So,  he  at  once  tried  the  usual  method 
for  bringing  me  back  to  a  normal  condition — and  with 
complete  success." 

"In  his  report  Arthur  emphasizes  that  as  the  singular 
feature  of  the  case.  His  account,  so  far  cis  it  goes,  agrees 
with  yours.     It  gives  the  facts  of  the  explosion,  how  you 


THE  SEARCH  FOR  EL  DORADO  53 

were  supposed  to  be  killed,  how  you  disappeared  for  three 
months,  and  how,  when  you  were  found,  you  were  in  a 
trance  from  which  he  awakened  you." 

"Does  he  say  that,  on  coming  out  of  the  trance,  I 
could  remember  nothing  that  happened  during  those  three 
months?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  there's  the  whole  case.  You  know  all  that  I 
do  about  it." 

"All  that  Raoul  Arthur  knows?" 

"All  that  he  says  he  knows." 

"Ah,  then  you  have  your  doubts?" 

"Just  a  suspicion.  I  have  a  feeling  that  he  could  tell 
more  about  my  disappearance  than  he  chose  to  tell." 

"Why  did  you  leave  him?" 

"I  left  Bogota  the  day  after  I  came  out  of  the  trance. 
My  distrust  of  Raoul  and  the  horror  that  I  felt  for  every- 
thing connected  with  my  mysterious  experience,  made 
my  stay  there  more  than  I  could  stand.  But  we  parted 
friends,  and  I've  sent  him  money  to  go  on  with  the  exca- 
vations. How  he's  getting  on  I  can't  tell  you.  I've  lost 
my  interest  in  El  Dorado.     I  won't  visit  Bogota  again." 

For  some  minutes  Leighton  paced  up  and  down  the 
shadowy  room.  Then  he  stopped,  with  the  air  of  one 
who  has  reached  a  decision. 

"Our  course  is  plain,"  he  announced. 

"I've  tried  everything;  there's  nothing  to  be  done," 
said  the  other  hopelessly. 

"David,  you've  missed  the  obvious  thing,"  was  the 
emphatic  reply.    "We  mu:t  go  to  Bogota." 

"Go  to  Bogota!" 

"You  and  I  will  face  Arthur  together.    If  he  knows 


54  THE  GILDED  MAN 

anything  more  about  this  matter,  he's  bound  to  tell  us. 
If  he  doesn't  know — if  your  suspicions  are  groundless — 
we'll  solve  the  mystery  of  those  three  months  some  other 
way.  And  perhaps  we'll  stumble  upon  your  Gilded  Man 
at  the  same  time,"  he  added  with  a  chuckle. 

"And  Una ?" 

"She  has  a  way  of  deciding  things  for  herself.  For  all 
I  know  she  may  want  to  go  with  ns." 

"Would  you  consent?" 

"There's  no  reason  against  it.  In  a  ghost  hunt  a 
woman's  wit  may  help." 

"Very  well,  then,"  said  David,  new  energy  in  his  words 
and  manner. 

"You  agree?" 

"I  am  entirely  in  your  hands." 

"Then  we'll  take  up  our  interesting  little  experiment 
again  in  the  land  of  El  Dorado — and  this  time  we'll  run 
it  out  to  the  end." 

"Without  a  psychometer,  I  hope,"  said  David. 


VI 

EMBOLADORES   ON   THE  MARCH 

THERE  is  in  Bogota  a  street,  the  Calle  de  Las  Mon- 
tanas,  that  meanders  down  from  the  treeless  foot- 
hills of  the  gray  mountain  ridge  overlooking  the  city,  and 
broadens  out  into  a  respectable  thoroughfare  before  losing 
itself  in  the  plaza  upon  which,  facing  each  other  diago- 
nally, stand  the  venerable  Catedral  de  Santa  Fe  and  the 
National  Capitol.  This  street,  resembling  the  bed  of  a 
mountain  stream,  in  the  first  half  mile  of  its  course  runs 
through  a  huddle  of  lowly  houses  whose  thatched  roofs 
and  white  adobe  walls  seldom  reach  more  than  one  story 
in  height.  The  inhabitants  of  this  district  are  called, 
in  playful  irony,  by  their  more  prosperous  neighbors, 
"paisanos,"  fellow-citizens;  or  else,  scornful  of  compli- 
ment, "peons,"  day-laborers.  Here  dwell  the  teamsters 
of  the  city,  the  washerwomen,  the  tinkers,  the  runners, 
the  street-sweepers,  the  beggars,  the  proprietors  of  small 
tiendas,  the  bootblacks,  the  vendors  of  sweets — a  mixed 
army  of  workers  and  idlers,  who  gain  a  livelihood,  as 
chance  favors,  by  their  hands  or  their  wits. 

The  peon  of  Colombia  is  an  interesting  possibility. 
He  is  more  Indian  than  Spanish,  but  he  has  developed 
certain  novelties  of  feature  that  belong  to  neither  of 
these  parent  races.    He  has  something  of  the  savagery 

55 


S6  THE  GILDED  MAN 

of  the  one,  and  the  romance  of  the  other;  yet  he  is  quite 
unlike  Spaniard  or  Indian,  and  when  these  have  disap- 
peared from  the  mountain  republic  the  peon  will  take 
their  place.  To-day  he  lacks  the  energy  needed  for 
self-assertion.  There  have  been  occasions,  however, 
when  this  peasant  of  the  Andes  has  taken  the  lead  in  a 
popular  uprising  and,  although  he  has  usually  failed  to 
win  what  he  was  after,  his  reserve  of  power  promises  well 
for  the  future  of  his  race. 

It  was  the  politically  awakened  peon  who  was  in  evi- 
dence on  a  certain  morning  in  Bogota,  not  so  very  long 
ago,  at  the  upper  end  of  the  Calle  de  Las  Montanas. 
The  sign  of  his  awakening  was  to  be  seen  in  an  unusual 
commotion  among  the  good-natured  "paisanos"  of  the 
street,  from  which  an  onlooker  might  reach  the  astonish- 
ing conclusion  that  some  sort  of  "demonstration"  was 
under  way.  Revolutionary  or  otherwise,  there  are 
people,  it  would  seem,  who  engage  in  these  affairs  simply 
through  a  desire  for  sociability.  Their  warlike  declara- 
tions are  really  not  unamiable.  An  Andean  revolution, 
indeed,  may  not  be  more  terrifying  than  a  "fiesta,"  and 
is  never  so  noisy.  In  either  case,  these  people  make 
common  cause  of  their  joys  or  their  grievances;  and  it 
was  unquestionably  a  sudden  burst  of  neighborliness  that 
brought  the  inhabitants  of  the  Calle  de  Las  Montanas 
together  on  this  particular  morning. 

An  army  of  bootblacks  was  assembled  in  the  middle  of 
the  street.  Bogota,  ancient  seat  of  the  Muyscas,  City 
of  the  Mountains,  is,  for  some  unknown  reason,  rich  in 
bootblacks.  Hence,  it  was  not  surprising  to  find  a  hun- 
dred or  more  knights  of  the  brush  and  bottle  mustered 
here.    They  were  of  varying  age  and  size,  clad  in  non- 


EMBOLADORES  ON  THE  MARCH  57 

descript  rags,  over  which  protectingly  flapped  the  ruana, 
or  poncho,  a  garment  inherited  from  the  Indians,  and 
now  universally  worn  in  Spanish  America.  War's  ordi- 
nary weapons  were  lacking  in  this  tattered  regiment.  In- 
stead of  sword  and  musket  each  youngster  carried  in  front 
of  him,  hanging  from  his  neck,  a  rude  box  containing  the 
bottles  and  brushes  needed  in  his  calling.  Ordinarily  these 
weapons  are  harmless  enough;  but  these  volunteer  sol- 
diers felt  that  they  were  adequately  armed  for  whatever 
-adventure  might  be  in  the  wind.  Patriotism — and  a  ruana 
— can  start  any  revolution.  In  expert  hands,  the  vicious 
twirl  of  a  ruana  should  bring  terror  to  the  most  stalwart 
of  foes — and  of  patriotism  there  was  a  generous  supply 
this  morning  in  the  Calle  de  Las  Montanas. 

Pedro  Cavallo,  a  wiry  youth,  taller  than  his  fellows, 
gifted  with  shrill  eloquence,  acrobatic  gestures,  and  hence 
acclaimed  the  King  of  the  Bootblacks,  was  the  leading 
spirit  of  the  throng  surrounding  him. 

"Viva  Pedro!  Por  la  Patria!  Por  la  Patria!  Baja  los 
puercos!"  shouted  first  one  and  then  another  in  answer 
to  his  orders  given  with  all  the  assurance  of  royalty. 

"Compadres!"  he  addressed  them,  switching  his  cum- 
bersome box  of  blacking  to  one  side  with  oratorical 
cunning;  "we  will  lead  the  way!  We  will  march  to  the 
palace!  We  will  offer  ourselves  to  the  President!  We 
will  march  to  the  coast,  and  then  we  will  sweep  out  the 
Yankees!" 

"Si!  Si!"  they  shrilled  in  eager  response.  "Por  la 
Patria!  Por  la  Patria!  Mata  los  Yankees  puercos!" 

A  quizzical  spectator,  a  true  Bogotano,  robust  and  red- 
cheeked,  swathed  in  an  ample  ruana,  echoed  the  enthu- 
siasm. 


58  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"It  is  an  army  of  emboladores ! "  he  shouted  sonorously. 
"Let  the  Yankee  bull  beware ! " 

Now,  "embolador,"  although  it  is  a  word  familiarly 
used  in  Bogota  to  designate  a  bootblack,  has  for  its  first 
meaning  "one  who  puts  balls  on  the  tips  of  a  bull's 
horns,"  a  thing  not  easy  to  accomplish,  requiring, 
as  it  does,  the  conquest  of  a  traditionally  warlike  animal. 
Applied  to  this  Falstaffian  army  of  bootblacks,  the  irony 
of  the  term  was  broad  enough  to  delight  the  bystanders, 
at  the  same  time  that  it  flattered  the  vanity  of  those  for 
whom  it  was  intended. 

Distances  meant  little  to  the  emboladores.  No  matter 
how  far  they  had  to  travel,  they  vowed  they  would  keep 
going  until  they  met  "los  Yankees."  And,  when  they  did 
meet  them,  they  had  no  doubt  of  what  would  happen. 
Confident  in  their  own  ability  to  put  the  "usurpers"  to 
flight,  they  had  the  sympathy  of  the  peons  surrounding 
them. 

At  this  period,  immediately  following  the  proclama- 
tion of  Panama's  independence,  there  was  widespread  in- 
dignation throughout  Colombia  against  the  United  States. 
Americans  were  accused  of  starting  the  "revolution" 
which  robbed  the  mother  country  of  her  richest  posses- 
sion, and  the  Colombian  government  was  accordingly 
expected  to  avenge  the  national  honor.  The  native  au- 
thorities, lacking  money  and  troops,  did  not  respond  to 
the  popular  demand,  and  it  was  left  to  the  "patriots"  to 
denounce  the  invading  Yankees,  and  to  fit  out  such  vol- 
unteer expeditions  as  the  one  planned  by  the  emboladores 
of  the  Calle  de  Las  Montanas.  Bogota,  the  largest  city 
of  the  republic,  the  center  of  its  official  life,  became  the 
rallying  place  for  political  malcontents.     A  "Sociedad 


EMBOLADORES  ON  THE  MARCH  59 

del  Integridad  Nacional" — a  body  of  agitators  at  odds 
with  the  native  government  and  bitterly  opposed  to  the 
United  States — had  been  formed  here.  This  Sociedad 
had  already  organized  two  expeditions  against  the 
Yankees  and  the  Panamanians,  Both  expeditions,  made 
up  of  the  dregs  of  the  city,  poorly  armed,  scantily  clad, 
relying  for  their  food  on  such  contributions  as  they  might 
pick  up  along  the  way,  had  left  for  the  coast  where  they 
planned  a  guerilla  warfare  that  would  bring  them,  they 
believed,  in  triumph  to  the  Isthmus.  The  third  expe- 
dition was  being  engineered  by  the  emboladores,  whose 
enthusiasm  and  love  of  adventure  made  them  excellent 
starters  of  an  uprising.  Even  the  elder  peons,  skeptical 
at  first  of  what  was  going  on,  soon  threw  aside  their 
reserve  and  fell  into  line  with  the  bootblacks.  Cheers 
greeted  each  addition  to  the  little  army,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  Pedro  Cavallo,  **Rey  de  los  Emboladores," 
headed  an  eager  throng  of  followers  numbering  well  into 
the  thousands. 

What  to  do  with  so  strange  a  mob  of  volunteers  might 
have  puzzled  a  more  experienced  leader  than  Pedro.  But 
nothing  daunted  him.  The  bigger  and  the  more  unruly 
his  army,  the  greater  seemed  to  be  his  confidence  in  him- 
self as  its  commander.  And  his  royal  swagger  won  un- 
bounded admiration.  Grimy  children,  too  young  to  join 
the  ranks  of  the  emboladores,  scurried  hither  and  thither 
among  the  bystanders,  shrieking  with  delight  at  this 
staging  of  their  favorite  "Pedro  the  King."  Women, 
setting  down  their  bundles  under  the  projecting  latticed 
windows  of  the  houses,  talked  wonderingly  of  this  sudden 
glory  that  had  come  to  a  youth  whom  they  had  thought 
skilled  in  nothing  mightier  than  the  blacking  of  boots. 


6o  THE  GILDED  MAN 

Solemn  greybeards,  proprietors  of  dingy  little  tiendas, 
stood  in  the  doorways  of  their  shops,  secretly  amazed, 
but  still  holding  themselves  grimly  aloof  from  the  noisy 
demonstrations  of  their  neighbors. 

"Yankees  are  pigs,"  said  one  of  these  sellers  of  sweets, 
native  tobacco  and  white  rum,  quoting  gloomily  the  popu- 
lar estimate  of  Americans. 

"Yes,"  replied  another;  "and  pigs  are  easily  beaten." 

"Truly,  that  is  so,"  quoth  the  first  philosopher,  struck 
by  the  turn  of  a  new  idea.  "Yes,  that  is  so.  Even  a 
woman  can  beat  a  pig,  if  the  pig  has  eaten  too  much." 

"Yes,  yes,  Compadre!  And  Panama  is  too  much  for 
the  hungriest  pig." 

Then,  out  of  the  surging  crowd  of  volunteers,  came  a 
stentorian  voice: 

"Donde  vamos,  Pedro  el  Rey?"  ("Where  shall 
we  go.  King  Pedro?") 

"To  the  President!  To  the  Palace  San  Carlos!" 
shouted  Pedro,  brandishing  a  stick  snatched  from  one  of 
the  faithful. 

As  the  volunteers  had  agreed  to  do  this  in  the  first 
place,  the  announcement  was  instantly  approved.  San 
Carlos,  "the  palace,"  was  not  far  off — a  few  short  blocks 
this  side  the  principal  plaza  of  the  city — and  word  was 
quickly  passed  along  to  march  thither.  Still  shouting 
vengeance  on  all  Yankees,  the  emboladores,  followed  by 
a  mob  of  peons,  moved  down  the  street,  encouraged  by 
the  primitive  jests  and  delighted  cheers  of  the  bystanders. 

Early  as  it  was,  San  Carlos  was  ready  for  this  unusual 
visit.  Although  it  was  popularly  known  as  "the  pal- 
ace"— as  all  residences  of  high  officials  are  in  Colombia — 
this  large  rambling  structure  of  stone  and  plaster  was  in 


EMBOLADORES  ON  THE  MARCH  6i 

no  way  distinguished  from  the  buildings  that  elbowed  it 
at  each  side.  Its  dilapidated  walls  ran  sheer  to  the  nar- 
row sidewalk,  overlooking  which  were  several  balconies 
of  the  kind  commonly  used  in  Spanish-American  build- 
ings. A  large  square  opening,  guarded  by  rude,  heavily 
timbered  doors,  formed  the  entrance  to  this  simple  execu- 
tive mansion  which  was  built  around  a  huge  courtyard, 
or  patio.  From  this  patio  two  broad  flights  of  carpeted 
stairs  led  to  the  living  rooms  and  offices  above.  This 
_  arrangement  of  rooms,  balconies,  patio — the  fountain  in 
t.~r  the  middle  of  a  bed  of  flowering  shrubs  and  plants,  per- 
petually spraying  a  moss-grown  cupid;  the  brick  walls; 
the  inner  corridor  supported  on  arches  of  masonry  and 
forming  the  boundary  of  the  four-sided  court — all  this 
one  finds,  with  slight  variation,  in  the  home  of  the  aver- 
age Bogotano,  as  well  as  in  the  official  "palace."  The 
unique  feature  of  San  Carlos,  growing  out  of  the  very 
heart  of  this  ancient  dwelling,  is  a  huge  walnut  tree, 
rising  some  forty  or  fifty  feet  above  the  patio,  overtop- 
ping the  adjacent  roofs,  and  marking  this,  better  than 
could  any  national  emblem,  as  the  presidential  residence. 
Within  the  gateway  of  the  palace  and  at  the  foot  of 
the  stone  steps  leading  to  the  corridor  above,  there  is 
always  a  guard  of  soldiers.  On  the  morning  of  the  visit 
of  the  emboladores  this  guard  was  greatly  increased  in 
numbers  and  was  commanded  by  a  youth  whose  resplen- 
dent uniform  was  in  striking  contrast  with  the  dingy,  111- 
iitting  apparel  of  his  men.  As  the  tramp  of  the  peons 
echoed  along  the  street,  the  soldiers  marched  hastily 
across  the  patio  and  drew  up  outside  the  entrance  to  the 
palace.     Here,   waiting  groups   of   idlers   shouted   with 


62  THE  GILDED  MAN 

delight  as  the  bootblacks,  King  Pedro  in  the  lead,  rounded 
the  comer  of  San  Carlos. 

"They  will  polish  the  Yankees,"  declared  one  admirer. 

"No,  they  have  come  for  the  president's  boots." 

"Emboladores!  Emboladores!  Beware  the  bull  I" 

"Here,  King  Pedro,  give  us  a  shinel" 

"Don  Pedro  is  busy;  he's  lost  his  bru^." 

"He's  keeping  it  for  his  Yankee  customers." 

"He  will  take  Panama  with  it." 

The  unterrified  Pedro,  meeting  this  raillery  with  serene 
indifference,  halted  his  men  before  the  entrance  to  the 
palace  and  addressed  the  captain  of  the  guard. 

"We  have  come  to  see  Don  Jose." 

"But,  muchacho,"  replied  the  captain  affably,  "that 
is  impossible.     His  Excellency  is  busy.     Who  are  you?" 

"Pedro,  El  Rey  de  los  Emboladores!"  piped  up  several 
volunteers. 

"Ah!"  said  the  captain,  saluting  profoundly.  "And 
what  do  you  want  with  his  Excellency,  Majestad?" 

"To  tell  him  we  will  fight  the  Yankees  who  have  stolen 
Panama." 

"I  will  tell  his  Excellency  this,"  was  the  grave  reply, 
"Of  course,  he  will  be  pleased." 

While  these  two  youths  were  talking — for  after  all,  the 
magnificent  toy  captain  was  quite  as  young  as  the  King 
of  Brush  and  Bottle — the  curtains  of  the  large  window 
above  were  drawn  aside  and  a  tall,  spare  figure,  in  a 
long  frock  coat,  stepped  slowly  forth  on  the  balcony. 
He  was  an  old  man,  with  a  close-clipped  beard  and  mous- 
tache, sharp,  thin  features,  and  an  owlish  way  of  peering 
through  his  large,  gold-bowed  spectacles  that  made  one 
look  involuntarily  for  the  ferule  of  the  schoolmaster  held 


EMBOLADORES  ON  THE  MARCH  63 

behind  his  back.  This  elderly  personage  had  been,  in- 
deed, one  of  the  notable  pedagogues  of  Bogota  in  his 
day,  a  fact  which,  joined  to  his  scholarly  achievements  in 
his  country's  literature,  seemed  to  his  neighbors  a  suf- 
ficient reason  for  voting  him  in  as  the  proprietor  of  San 
Carlos.  To  this  decision  the  less  powerful  and  more 
numerous  citizens  of  the  republic  could  make  no  effective 
protest. 

On  this  particular  morning  it  was  the  schoolmaster, 
wearing  his  most  indulgent  smile,  who  faced  the  boot- 
blacks in  the  street  below  him.  As  soon  as  they  caught 
sight  of  the  familiar  figure  they  gave  him  an  enthusiastic 
greeting,  the  democratic  flavor  of  which  he  seemed  to 
relish.  Popular  applause  had  been  lacking  in  Don  Jose's 
career,  and  since  the  troubles  over  Panama  had  broken 
in  upon  his  quiet  cultivation  of  the  muses,  it  looked  very 
much  as  if  his  countrymen's  indifference  might  turn  to 
open  hostility.  Thus,  the  friendly  greetings  of  a  rabble 
of  bootblacks  and  peons  was  not  to  be  despised. 

"Don  Jose!  Don  Jose!"  they  shouted  cheerfully,  with 
that  peculiar  upward  inflection  by  which  the  Spanish- 
American  gives  a  warmth  to  his  salutation  not  suggested 
by  the  words  themselves.  "El  Presidente  de  Colombia! 
Viva  Don  Jose!  Baja  los  Yankees!" 

To  all  of  which  Don  Jose,  one  long  thin  hand  thrust 
stiffly  between  the  breast  buttons  of  his  coat,  listened  in 
dignified  silence,  inwardly  gratified  by  these  boisterous 
visitors. 

"Bueno,  bueno,"  he  said  in  a  high  querulous  voice;  "I 
am  very  glad  to  see  you,  my  friends.  This  is  a  great 
honor.     But,  what  can  I  do  for  you?" 


64  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"Send  us  to  Panama!"  bawled  Pedro,  acting  as  spokes- 
man for  his  men. 

"Dear  me!"  exclaimed  the  old  man,  enjoying  the  situ- 
ation and  ignoring  its  political  consequences.  "Panama 
is  far  off — ^and  why  should  I  send  such  good  citizens  away 
from  Bogota?" 

"Por  la  Patria !    Por  la  Patria!    To  fight  the  Yankees ! " 

"The  Yankees?     But  why " 

"They  have  stolen  Panama.    They  are  pigs ! " 

"What  a  people!"  he  exclaimed,  nonplussed.  "I  am 
sorry  for  that.     Well,  if  I  send  you,  what  will  you  do?" 

"Esta  bueno!  Don  Jose  will  send  us  to  kill  the 
Yankees!"  they  shouted  enthusiastically. 

"No!  No!  I  didn't  say  that!"  he  expostulated;  then 
continued,  as  if  by  rote:  "The  government  will  look  after 
Panama.  If  fighting  is  needed  to  preserve  the  republic, 
the  army  will  do  its  duty" — an  assurance  which  increased 
the  martial  swagger  of  the  gold-braided  toy  captain, 
although  unappreciated  by  his  men. 

"We  will  fight  with  the  army,  Don  Jose,"  declared 
Pedro.  "We  will  drive  out  the  Yankees  and  save 
Panama." 

"Viva  Colombia!  Baja  los  Yankees!"  shouted  the 
peons.  As  this  voiced  the  popular  sentiment,  and  as 
Don  Jose's  loyalty  in  the  Panama  affair  had  been  ques- 
tioned by  some  of  his  enemies,  no  sufficiently  discreet 
reply  occurred  to  the  puzzled  schoolmaster,  whose  intel- 
lectual gifts,  moreover,  were  lacking  in  the  quick  give- 
and-take  needed  for  street  oratory.  So,  smiling  benignly, 
and  somewhat  fatuously,  upon  the  noisy  rabble,  he  thrust 
his  hand  deeper  into  his  coat,  peered  more  owlishly 
through  his  gold-rimmed  glasses  and,  forgetting  its  future 


EMBOLADORES  ON  THE  MARCH  65 

possibilities,  got  such  enjoyment  as  he  could  out  of  the 
novel  situation. 

The  volunteers  exploded  with  joy  over  the  president's 
apparent  approval  of  their  demand.  Had  Pedro  cared 
to  stop  for  further  talk  the  impatience  of  his  comrades 
would  have  prevented  him.  Although  these  peons  had 
no  definite  plan,  they  were  looking  for  something  more 
exciting  than  an  exchange  of  opinions  with  this  old  grey- 
beard of  San  Carlos.  A  march  through  the  city,  and 
then  on  to  Panama,  seemed  as  good  a  program  as  any  to 
men  who  were  indifferent  to  the  dry  details  of  geography. 
There  were  more  cries  of  "Down  with  the  Yankees!"  and 
cheers  for  Don  Jose.  Then,  before  that  bewildered  states- 
man could  take  himself  off,  his  unwashed  admirers  filed 
past  his  balcony,  leaving  the  toy  captain  and  his  men 
to  close  the  gates  they  had  so  courageously  guarded. 

Under  other  skies  and  among  a  more  vindictive  people, 
a  roving  crowd  of  peons,  clamorous  for  war  and  threaten- 
ing all  who  opposed  them,  might  be  regarded  with  some 
alarm.  But  the  mildness  of  the  Andean  character,  its 
dislike  for  actual  bloodshed,  lessened  Bogota's  danger. 
Even  the  timid  Don  Jose  was  not  apprehensive.  But 
there  were  others  who  thought  it  wiser  to  keep  these 
peons  away  from  Americans  living  in  Bogota.  Not  that 
anything  would  really  happen — past  experiences  seemed 
to  prove  the  harmlessness  of  this  kind  of  patriotism. 
When  the  second  expedition  left  for  the  Isthmus,  for 
instance,  an  American,  looking  for  novel  impressions, 
had  posed  the  volunteers  before  his  camera  and  snap>- 
shotted  them  to  his  heart's  content  while  they  were  de- 
nouncing "los  Yankees."  But  one  mob  of  patriots  may 
be  quite  unlike  another,  and  it  so  happened  that  when 


66  THE  GILDED  MAN 

King  Pedro's  army  of  emboladores,  in  its  aimless  wan- 
derings after  leaving  the  Palace  of  San  Carlos,  stumbled 
upon  a  native  of  the  United  States,  the  encounter  became 
a  very  lively  one  indeed. 

As  a  rule  plenty  of  Americans  are  in  Bogota.  Some 
go  there  to  do  business  for  the  merchant  houses  which 
they  represent;  some  have  their  own  local  interests,  others 
are  after  those  tempting  government  "concessions" 
granted  to  the  disinterested  person  who  develops  the 
natural  resources  of  the  country  by  monopolizing  them. 
When  the  Panama  "revolution"  came,  most  Americans 
left  Bogota,  conscious  that  it  was  not  a  promising  time 
to  seek  aid  from  the  national  treasury  for  their  ventures. 
Those  who  were  unable  to  leave,  stayed  within  their 
respective  hotels  whenever  a  popular  uprising  seemed 
likely. 

It  was  down  a  blank  little  side  street,  leading  nowhere 
in  particular,  lined  with  modest  one-storied  houses,  in  a 
quiet  district  unfrequented  by  foreigners,  that  the  roving 
peons  met  the  one  American  who  had  failed  to  conceal 
himself  on  this  particular  morning.  After  leaving  San 
Carlos,  Pedro  had  turned  his  men  into  the  Plaza  de 
Catedral,  where  they  had  clattered  along  the  wide  con- 
course, pausing  to  make  a  few  fiery  speeches  before  the 
capitol,  whose  unroofed  courts — the  building  was  imfin- 
ished  at  that  time — and  majestic  Doric  columns  seem 
meant  for  oratory.  From  here  they  had  gone  the  zigzag 
length  of  the  principal  business  street.  Then  tiring  of 
their  progress  through  an  unresponsive  city,  they  had 
started  to  find  their  way  back  to  the  Calle  de  Las  Mon- 
tanas,  choosing  for  this  purpose  the  obscure  Calle  de  Las 
Flores. 


EMBOLADORES  ON  THE  MARCH  67 

At  their  approach  the  street  was  practically  deserted, 
all  the  doors  opening  on  it  carefully  barred  and,  in  some 
instances,  even  the  blinds  of  the  windows  drawn.  Thus, 
it  happened  that  a  tall  man,  muffled  in  a  ruana,  wearing 
a  wide  sombrero,  and  with  his  back  against  the  entrance 
to  one  of  the  houses,  became  unavoidably  conspicuous  as 
the  throng  of  emboladores  surged  along  the  roadway 
abreast  of  him. 

"Viva  Colombia!"  shouted  Pedro,  giving  the  usual 
greeting.     ''Baja  los  Yankees!" 

Instead  of  answering  in  a  like  strain  of  enthusiasm,  the 
man  addressed  tossed  the  loose  end  of  his  ruana  over  one 
shoulder,  showing,  as  he  did  so,  a  pallid  face  on  which 
played  a  contemptuous  smile. 

"Soy  un  Americano,"  he  replied  composedly,  glancing 
at  Pedro  and  then  turning  his  eyes,  which  were  singularly 
piercing,  from  one  to  another  of  those  crowding  about 
him. 

"Un  Yankee!    Un  Yankee!    Baja  los  Yankees!" 

The  cry  was  followed  by  a  threatening  movement  of 
the  emboladores  toward  the  man  whose  attitude  seemed 
to  be  a  challenge  to  them. 

"Halt! "  yelled  Pedro.  "I  know  this  senor.  Give  him 
a  chance.  If  he  cheers  Colombia,  we  will  let  him  go. 
If  he  refuses,  he  is  prisoner.  Now,  Senor  Yankee — ^viva 
Colombia!" 

The  emboladores  gave  a  lusty  cheer.  It  was  met  with 
scornful  silence  by  the  man  who  had  declared  himself  a 
Yankee. 

"Si!  Si!  Pedro  el  Rey!"  they  all  shouted.  "He  is  an 
enemy  to  Colombia.     He  is  prisoner!" 

The  wily  Pedro  iiTT-vii^ing  to  risk  his  position  by  deny- 


68  THE  GILDED  MAN 

ing  the  demands  of  his  followers,  yet  fearing  to  aid  in 
an  act  of  violence,  diplomatically  said  nothing.  The  de- 
fiant American,  meanwhile,  regarded  the  peons  with  a 
disdain  that  enraged  them,  although  checking,  through 
its  very  audacity,  their  hostility. 

"I  am  not  a  Colombian,"  he  said  quietly;  "I  am  not 
an  enemy  to  Colombia.  But  I  won't  cheer  against  the 
Yankees." 

"Un  Yankee!  Un  Yankee!"  they  retorted.  "A 
Yankee  thief  come  for  our  gold ! " 

"There  is  truth  in  that,"  he  laughed  sardonically.  "I 
want  gold  that  you  are  too  lazy  to  get  for  yourselves — 
just  as  you  were  too  lazy  to  keep  Panama." 

"Un  loco!  He  is  insane!"  cried  Pedro  in  disgust. 
"Let  us  go!" 

"No!  No!"  yelled  the  angry  mob.  And  amid  cries  of 
"Loco!  Demonio!  Yankee!  Puerco!"  those  in  the  front 
ranks  made  a  lunge  at  the  man  whose  exasperating  cool- 
ness had  kept  them  at  bay,  while  a  shower  of  missiles 
came  from  the  peons  who  hovered  in  the  rear. 

But  the  attack  was  skilfully  met.  Tripping  up  his 
first  two  assailants  and  warding  off  the  blows  of  a  third, 
the  Yankee,  smiling  derisively,  stealthily  passed  his  left 
hand  along  the  ponderous  door  against  which  he  was 
leaning.  This  street  door,  as  is  usual  in  Colombian 
houses,  had  a  small  "postigo,"  or  wicket,  large  enough 
to  admit  one  p)erson  at  a  time,  and  opening  much  more 
readily  than  the  unwieldy  mass  of  timber  of  which  it 
formed  an  insignificant  part.  Having  found  the  latch 
of  this  wicket,  the  Yankee  gave  it  a  quick  backward 
thrust,  stepped  lightly  over  the  threshold  and  closed  and 
barricaded  this  scarcely  revealed  entrance  behind  him. 


EMBOLADORES  ON  THE  MARCH  69 

A  storm  of  oaths  followed  his  escape.  Then,  not  con- 
tent with  this  vent  to  their  anger,  the  peons,  using  such 
stones  and  weapons  as  came  to  hand,  rushed  upon  the 
wooden  barricade  standing  between  them  and  their  prey, 
at  the  same  time  calling  upon  the  inhabitants  of  the  house 
to  let  them  in.  These  Colombian  doors,  however,  are 
built  to  withstand  a  stout  siege,  and  the  din  might  have 
been  indefinitely  prolonged  had  it  not  come  to  an  abrupt 
and  unexpected  conclusion. 

Three  sharp  blows  upon  the  door  were  given  from 
within.  Then  a  clear  feminine  voice  was  heard  above  the 
uproar. 

"Stand  back,  Senores!     I  will  open." 

There  was  a  dead  silence.  This  time  it  was  the  great 
door  itself  that  swung  slowly  open.  There  was  no  sign 
of  the  escaped  Yankee  in  the  wide  corridor  beyond.  In 
his  stead  there  stood,  unattended,  unprotected,  a  woman. 

She  was  clad  in  a  long  robe  of  white,  her  dark  hair 
flowing  unconfined  down  her  shoulders.  Her  bare  arms, 
exquisitely  molded,  and  of  a  tint  that  vied  with  her 
dress  in  purity,  were  crossed  upon  her  breast.  There 
was  no  fear  in  her  eyes  as  she  faced  the  abashed  men  and 
boys  before  her. 

"This  is  my  house,  Senores,"  she  said  calmly.  "What 
do  you  want?" 

Involuntarily  the  leaders  of  the  mob  fell  back,  awed 
by  the  girl's  courage  and  dignity.  There  was  a  murmur 
of  voices,  ending  in  a  chorus  of  admiration  and  homage. 

"La  Reinal  La  Reinal"  they  cried.  "La  Reina  de  los 
Indiosl" 

Then  the  sharp-witted  Pedro,  resuming  command  over 


70  THE  GILDED  MAN 

his  ragged  troops,  stepped  forth,  waving  to  the  others  to 
keep  silence. 

"It  is  nothing,  Senora,"  he  said,  bowing  with  an  awk- 
ward grace  that  played  sad  pranks  with  the  box  of  black- 
ing hanging  from  his  neck.  "We  are  patriots  of  Colombia 
marching  to  Panama.  We  mean  no  harm  to  you." 
Then,  turning  to  the  emboladores,  he  shouted,  with  his 
old  enthusiasm: 

"Por  la  Patria!  Por  la  Patria!  Viva  la  Reinal  Baja 
los  Yankees!" 

The  crowd  took  up  the  familiar  call,  and  with  one  of 
those  quick  changes  of  sentiment  that  sometimes  sweeps 
over  such  gatherings,  fell  into  a  march,  cheering  the  mo- 
tionless "Reina  de  los  Indies"  as  they  filed  past  her,  and 
leaving  the  Calle  de  los  Flores  to  its  accustomed  dreams 
and  quiet. 


vn 

LA  REINA  DE  LOS  INDIOS 

FELICITA,  where  is  this  Senor?" 
"Ah,  Dios  mio!  safe  enough,  in  the  sala.  But  for 
thee — nina  Sa'pona,  how  scared  I've  beenl  And  they 
called  thee  queen,  thou  who  art  our  queen  indeed,  beauti- 
ful, brave  one!  But  thou  shouldst  not  do  this — not  for 
so  ugly  a  senor — my  beautiful  nina!" 

With  the  great  door  closed,  and  the  noise  from  the 
peons  growing  fainter  in  the  distance,  the  stern  dignity 
of  the  Indian  girl  vanished  before  the  simple  talk  of  her 
old  nurse.  Queen  of  the  Indians,  as  the  peons  called 
her,  this  girl  might  be — although  why  they  called  her  so 
they  would  find  it  difficult  to  tell — but  for  the  faithful 
creature,  with  her  eager  caresses  and  affectionate  words, 
royalty,  real  or  imaginary,  scarcely  counted. 

"There  you  are,  foolish  Felicita,  always  scared  at  some- 
thing! Danger?  What  danger?  Only  a  greeting  from 
those  who  are  as  fond  of  me  as  thou  art.  Now,  to  thy 
work.  I  must  speak  with  this  troublesome  Yankee. 
Many  a  day  it  is  since  I  have  seen  him  here.  And  then 
— Felicita,  I  am  dying  of  hunger." 

Shaking  her  head  at  her  mistress's  lack  of  caution,  the 
old  nurse  hobbled  dovm  the  gloomy  corridor  and  into 
the  sunny  patio,  fragrant  with  jasmine  and  sweet  rose, 

71 


72  THE  GILDED  MAN 

where  two  Indian  girls,  seated  upon  the  flags  surrounding 
the  opening  of  a  central  cistern,  were  crushing  corn  in 
the  primitive  stone  hand  mills  of  their  race. 

Resuming  something  of  her  stateliness  of  mien,  the 
youthful  "Reina  de  los  Indios"  turned  to  the  right  along 
a  passage-way  leading  off  from  the  main  corridor  into 
the  sala,  or  principal  living  room  of  the  house.  This 
was  more  scantily  furnished  than  such  apartments  usually 
are  in  Bogota.  All  that  it  had  was  of  the  plainest — half 
a  dozen  cheap  rocking  chairs,  a  strziight-backed  cane 
settee,  a  tall  pier-glass,  ornamented  at  the  top  and  sides 
with  meaningless  gilt  stucco  work,  and  a  dark  walnut 
cabinet,  carved  in  elaborate  hunting  design,  with  massive 
spiral  pillars  supporting  the  heavily  panelled  sides  and 
front — the  only  object  in  the  room  giving  evidence 
either  of  taste  or  wealth.  Even  the  tiled  floors  were 
bare,  save  for  a  few  well  worn  petates  (Indian  mats) 
which  failed  to  supply  that  feeling  of  comfort  provided 
in  this  chilly  climate  by  the  thick  woollen  rugs  and  car- 
pets generally  in  use. 

Awaiting  her  entrance  stood  the  Yankee  whom  she 
had  rescued  from  the  emboladores.  Confronted  by  his 
ragged  assailants  he  had  shown  an  admirable  coolness; 
in  the  presence  of  this  young  girl  his  manner  lacked  that 
air  of  confidence  he  had  so  readily  assumed  in  the  face 
of  danger.  He  was  ill  at  ease;  his  glance  shifted  from 
one  object  to  another  in  the  room,  his  sombrero  was 
tightly  clenched  in  his  hand,  he  avoided  the  steady  gaze 
of  his  rescuer.  Yet  there  was  in  his  attitude  toward  her 
an  indefinable  homage,  due,  perhaps,  to  the  queenly  rank 
that  others  accorded  her,  or  else  to  the  rare  feminine 
loveliness,  the  subtle  power  of  which  few  could  escape. 


LA  REINA  DE  LOS  INDIOS  73 

"Senorita,  you  have  done  me  a  great  service,"  he  said. 
"I  was  on  my  way  to  see  you  when  I  had  that  brush  with 
the  peons.  That  is  my  excuse  for  taking  refuge  in  your 
house  and  exposing  you  to  danger.  Will  you  forgive  me? 
Will  you " 

"Ah,  my  good  Don  Raoul!"  she  interrupted.  "What 
questions  1  And  from  you!  Of  course,  if  I  was  of 
service  to  you  just  now,  I  am  glad." 

"It  is  good  to  hear  you  say  that,  Senorita,"  he  replied 
with  evident  relief.  "I  was  afraid  things  might  be  dif- 
ferent between  us.  You  see,  you  disappeared  so  com- 
pletely. You  have  not  been  in  Bogota  for  months,  for 
years,  Senorita.  And  then,  to-day — at  last — I  heard  of 
your  arrival.  I  wanted  to  see  you.  I  have  not  for- 
gotten you  in  all  this  long  time,  you  may  be  sure, 
Sajipona!" 

A  faint  flush  overspread  the  girl's  delicate  features;  a 
strange  look  kindled  within  her  dark  eyes. 

"It  is  well,  Don  Raoul,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice. 

"And  here  you  are,  still  the  Queen — beautiful,  mys- 
terious!" he  exclaimed. 

"You  know  I  am  not  a  queen,"  she  murmured  j 

"Why,  even  now  they  called  you  so.  Those  jackals 
felt  your  power — ^just  as  I  do,  beautiful  Sajipona!" 

"Enough,  Senor!  Titles  and  flatteries  I  neither  care 
for  nor  deserve  are  a  mockery  in  my  own  house." 

"The  title  is  yours  by  tradition,  if  not  by  right.  As 
for  flatteries " 

"We  do  not  live  by  traditions,"  she  interrupted. 

"To  me,  at  least,  you  are  La  Reina  de  los  Indios." 

"Ah,  well,  Senor,"  she  said  with  a  low  laugh;  "every 
queen,  I  fancy,  should  have  at  least  one  subject.    And 


74  THE  GILDED  MAN 

now — supposing  that  I  am  this  queen  you  talk  of — what 
is  it  you  want  of  me?" 

"We  always  used  to  be  friends,  Sajipona.  Can  we 
not  be  friends  still?" 

"There's  another  strange  question!  But — surely  you 
did  not  come  here  to  ask  me  that?  There  is  something 
else,  Don  Raoul,"  she  added,  regarding  him  intently. 

"It  is  that,  first  of  all.  And  then — I  had  it  in  mind 
to  tell  you  that  my  friend  is  returning  to  Bogota — David 
Meudon." 

"David  Meudon,"  she  repeated,  as  if  pondering  the 
name,  looking  steadily  at  Raoul  the  while. 

"But  then — what  is  that  to  me,  Senor?"  she  asked. 

"You  remember  him?" 

"Yes,  of  course  I  remember  him.  He  has  been  away 
a  long  time,  hasn't  he?"  Then,  after  a  pause:  "Why 
does  he  come  back?" 

"To  solve  a  mystery — so  he  writes  me," 

"A  mystery?" 

"He  calls  it  a  mystery,"  laughed  the  other,  "You  see, 
when  we  were  living  here  together  he  disappeared  for 
three  months.  We  thought  he  had  been  killed  by  a  dyna- 
mite explosion.    Surely,  you  have  heard  of  it,  Senorita?" 

"Yes — I  think  everyone  has  heard  of  it.  And  then, 
at  the  time,  there  were  rumors.  For  instance,  I  heard — 
I  heard  who  exploded  the  dynamite." 

"Sure  enough,  there  were  all  kinds  of  rumors.  But, 
of  course,  the  whole  thing  was  an  accident,  a  horrible 
accident,  that  nearly  cost  David  his  life.  He  didn't  heed 
the  signal  in  time — or  something  went  wrong — the  signal 
or  the  dynamite.  Anyway,  he  wasn't  seen  or  heard  of 
again  for  three  months.    We  all  thought  he  must  have 


LA  REINA  DE  LOS  INDIOS  75 

been  blown  to  bits.  Then,  a  curious  thing  happened. 
One  morning  I  found  him  in  my  house,  in  a  sort  of 
trance." 

''Well?" 

"When  he  came  out  of  the  trance,  he  declared  he  could 
remember  nothing  of  what  he  had  been  through.  Those 
three  months  were  a  blank  in  his  memory." 

"And  then ?" 

"He  left  Bogota,  declaring  he  would  never  come  back. 
That  was  just  three  years  ago." 

"But " 

"Yes,  now  he  is  coming  back — ^with  some  friends — to 
solve  this  mystery,  so  he  says." 

"What  mystery,  Senor?" 

"Why,"  replied  Raoul  slowly,  looking  at  her  intently; 
"the  mystery  of  those  three  months  when  he  was  sup- 
posed to  have  been  in  a  trance." 

"What  is  a  trance,  Don  Raoul?"  asked  the  girl  inno- 
cently. 

Raoul  laughed. 

"Ah,  that  would  be  hard  to  explain  to  a  queen  of  the 
Indians,"  he  said.  "A  trance  is  not  exactly  a  sleep,  for 
a  man  may  talk  and  travel  and  do  things,  just  like  other 
men,  when  he's  in  a  trance.  But  when  he  is  himself 
again,  he  remembers  nothing  of  all  that  happened  when 
he  was  in  the  trance." 

"Then  you  think  he  was  in  a  trance  during  those  three 
months  when  he  disappeared  from  Bogota?" 

"Yes." 

"And  that  he  has  forgotten  all  that  happened  to  him 
in  that  time?" 

"Perhaps." 


76  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"Could  he  ever  remember?" 

"There  is  only  one  way  in  which  he  could." 

"How  is  that?" 

"If  he  could  return  to  the  same  scenes  and  conditions 
through  which  he  passed  during  those  three  months." 

"But  for  that  you  would  have  to  know,  of  course,  what 
those  scenes  and  conditions  were?" 

"Exactly,  Senorita." 

"Really,  it  is  all  very  interesting,"  she  said  dreamily. 
"I  have  heard  something  like  it  in  fairy  tales,  I  think; 
but  not  in  real  life.  And  now — why  do  you  tell  all  this 
to  me,  Senor?"  she  asked,  as  if  struck  by  a  novel  idea. 

"Ah,  Sajipona,"  he  replied  with  a  smile;  "I  have  told 
you  merely  in  answer  to  your  own  questions.  You  have 
shown  that — for  some  reason  or  other — you  are  inter- 
ested." 

"Interested?  Why,  of  course  I  am  interested — ^if  for 
no  other  reason,  simply  because  you  are.  This  David 
Meudon,  you  say,  left  Bogota  three  years  ago?  Strange 
that  he  should  leave  so  suddenly — and  with  his  work  in 
this  country  unfinished ! " 

"I  can't  tell  how  much  you  know  of  David,"  he  said 
musingly.  "But  there  is  every  reason  why  you,  more 
than  anyone  else,  should  be  interested  in  the  man  who 
attempts  to  solve  the  secret  of  Guatavita — Sajipona." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  emphasis  placed  on  the 
girl's  name;  nor  was  there  any  disguising  the  effect  its 
peculiar  pronunciation  had  upon  her.  Sajipona  looked 
at  Raoul  in  alarm,  then  turned  from  him  in  manifest 
confusion.  Presently,  she  gave  a  low  laugh  and  her 
eyes  sought  his  again. 

"Ah,   you   Yankees    are   strange   people,"   she   said. 


LA  REINA  DE  LOS  INDIOS  77 

"Some  say,  you  are  only  money  makers.  But,  it  appears, 
you  are  more  than  that;  for  you  listen  to  foolish  legends, 
like  the  rest  of  us — and  you  believe  them." 

"Yes,  I  believe  this  one,  Sajipona." 

"Does  the  man  who  so  strangely  lost  his  memory  by 
your  dynamite  explosion  believe  this  one?"  she  asked 
laughing. 

"I  don't  know.    Perhaps  he  never  heard  it." 

"Well,  it's  very  interesting,  anyway — I  mean,  about 

the  trance  and  the  dynamite.     I  want  to  hear  the  end 

^f  it.    You  will  surely  come  again,  won't  you?     And 

tell  me  when  your  friend  arrives  in  Bogota,"  she  added, 

giving  him  her  hand. 

"You  are  ever  the  queen;  you  dismiss  me  from  your 
presence,"  he  complained,  taking  her  hand,  nevertheless, 
and  kissing  it. 

"The  streets  are  safe  for  you  now,  Senor,"  she  said. 

"Thanks  to  you,  La  Reina!" 

"Ah,  I  would  do  much  more  for  you  than  that,  as  you 
know,  Don  Raoul!"  she  exclaimed,  an  arch  smile  giving 
to  her  beautiful  features  a  rare  flash  of  piquancy.  "And 
now — Adios,  Senor!" 

"Surely,  not  'Adios,'  but — until  the  next  time, 
Sajipona,"  he  replied,  as  he  bowed  himself  from  the  sala. 

Raoul's  belief  in  the  legend  involved  in  Sajipona's 
name  marked  a  radical  change  which  he  had  undergone 
since  he  arrived  in  Bogota.  To  his  keen,  logical  mind 
the  proposal  to  enlist  in  a  quest  for  the  long  lost  El 
Dorado  seemed,  at  first,  far  too  quixotic  to  be  taken 
seriously.  But  he  humored  the  idea,  originating  in 
David's  fondness  for  studies  touching  the  borderlands  of 
romance,  in  the  hope  that  he  would  divert  a  purely  fanci- 


78  THE  GILDED  MAN 

ful  project  into  more  profitable  channels.  Later  on, 
however,  he  was  himself  caught  by  the  practical  possi- 
bilities lurking  in  the  old  Chibcha  legend.  Hence,  it  fol- 
lowed that  while  David  was  enjoying  the  picturesque  life 
of  the  little  mountain  capital,  Raoul  was  delving  in  musty 
records,  running  down  old  traditions,  and  studying  the 
topography  of  the  Bogota  tableland  with  a  degree  of 
patience  as  to  details  that  the  subject  had  rarely  received. 
For  days  at  a  time  he  burrowed  in  the  crumbling  archives 
of  the  Museo  Nacional,  an  unpretentious  little  edifice, 
not  far  from  the  palace  of  San  Carlos,  in  which  were 
stored,  pell-mell,  practically  every  evidence  that  remained 
of  Colombia's  prehistoric  civilization.  Here,  with  only 
the  grey,  shrivelled  mummies  of  two  ancient  kings  of  the 
Chibchas  to  watch  him,  he  had  reconstructed,  as  best  he 
cbuld,  the  past  of  this  vanished  race  of  people,  had  con- 
vinced himself  of  their  wealth,  scarcely  any  of  which  had 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Spanish,  and  had  laid  his 
plans  for  discovering  a  treasure  which  had  balked  every 
explorer  before  him. 

Combined  with  these  studies  in  the  National  Museum 
and  in  the  vicinity  of  Lake  Guatavita,  Raoul  had  busied 
himself  with  the  peons  of  the  neighborhood.  From  these 
primitive  people  he  learned  enough  to  corroborate  the 
main  features  in  the  Chibcha  tradition  as  handed  down 
by  Castellanos,  Pedro  Simon,  Piedrahita,  and  other  chron- 
iclers of  the  Spanish  Conquest.  In  addition,  he  unearthed 
the  curious  legend  that  the  Sacred  Lake  would  never 
yield  up  its  treasure  except  to  one  in  whose  veins  flowed 
the  blood  of  the  Chibcha  kings.  This  bit  of  prophetic 
romance  had  come,  it  was  said,  from  father  to  son 
through  the  four  centuries  following  the  martyrdom  of 


LA  REINA  DE  LOS  INDIOS  79 

the  last  of  the  zipas.  He  was  told,  also — and  it  added 
to  the  fantastic  character  of  the  prophecy — that  a  secret, 
known  only  to  the  zipas  and  their  direct  descendants, 
attached  to  Lake  Guatavita,  and  that  by  means  of  this 
secret  the  treasure  hidden  beneath  its  waters  would  be 
discovered. 

Raoul  at  first  paid  little  heed  to  this  part  of  the  legend. 
It  had  too  strong  a  flavor  of  latter-day  romance  to  go  for 
more  than  a  recent  addition  to  the  main  story  of  the 
wealth  of  the  Chibcha  kings  and  their  peculiar  religious 
customs.  The  persistence  of  the  idea,  however,  the  be- 
lief in  its  truth  on  the  part  of  those  repeating  it,  gradually 
excited  his  interest  and  led  him  into  all  kinds  of  theories 
as  to  the  existence  and  recovery  of  the  Guatavita  treasure. 

That  so  fanciful  a  legend  could  have  won  even  the 
partial  belief  of  so  ingrained  a  skeptic  as  Raoul  seems 
at  first  absurd  on  the  face  of  it.  But  most  of  us  can 
recall  instances  enough  of  similar  lapses  from  the  hyper- 
critical to  the  over-superstitious  to  make  this  one  not 
altogether  incredible.  As  often  happens,  also,  in  such 
cases — as  with  those  otherwise  reasonable  persons  who 
believe  in  fortune-telling,  omens,  apparitions,  etc., — this 
bit  of  superstition,  having  once  lodged  itself  in  Raoul's 
mind,  increased  in  importance,  opening  up  an  absorbing 
field  for  his  love  of  psychological  novelties,  until  it  finally 
became  a  monomania,  an  obsession,  as  the  scientists 
call  it. 

These  ancient  zipas,  he  argued,  were  the  chieftains  of 
a  superior  race  of  people.  In  the  annual  tribute  from 
the  royal  treasury  to  the  national  god,  who  was  supposed 
to  live  at  the  bottom  of  Lake  Guatavita,  they  catered 
to  the  credulity  of  their  subjects  while,  in  reality,  laugh- 


8o  THE  GILDED  MAN 

ing  in  their  sleeves  at  them,  so  to  speak,  all  the  time. 
Men  of  their  intelligence  were  not  apt  literally  to  throw 
away  wealth  they  had  themselves  amassed,  and  which 
they  must  consider  as  belonging  to  them  and  to  their 
descendants.  But  as  they — apparently — did  throw  it 
away,  it  was  more  than  likely  that  they  used  some  kind 
of  hocus-pocus,  known  only  to  themselves,  by  means  of 
which  the  God  Chibchacum — in  whose  existence  they  did 
not  believe — was  cheated  of  his  annual  tribute.  How 
they  practiced  this  deception  they  must  surely  have  told 
their  children.  The  coming  of  the  Spaniards,  however, 
and  the  overthrow  of  the  ancient  dynasty,  had  made  of 
the  whole  affair  a  greater  secret  than  ever.  It  would  be 
handed  down  from  one  generation  to  another  so  long  as 
there  were  descendants  of  the  zipas;  but  these  survivors 
of  the  royal  line  would  find  it  increasingly  difficult,  owing 
to  the  presence  of  the  Sapniards,  to  take  the  steps  needed 
to  recover  their  ancestral  treasure. 

There  was  some  plausibility  in  Raoul's  reasoning, 
enough,  perhaps,  to  excite  the  romancer's  interest,  but 
scarcely  that  of  the  practical  man  of  affairs  to  whom 
are  broached  the  details  of  a  mining  venture.  Convic- 
tion grew,  however,  with  Raoul,  whose  investigations  wer^ 
confined  thenceforward  less  to  the  archaeological  aspect^ 
of  the  problem  and  more  to  the  task  of  discovering  the 
whereabouts  of  the  living  descendants  of  the  zipas. 

These  speculations  and  the  singular  inquiry  into  whiclj 
they  had  drawn  his  companion  excited  only  a  mild  inter^ 
est  in  David.  The  latter,  strangely  enough,  enchanted 
with  the  picturesque  novelty  of  the  doud-city  in  which 
he  found  himself,  felt  less  of  the  antiquarian's  zeal  than 
when  Bogota  was  a  remote  geographical  possibility.    Per- 


LA  REINA  DE  LOS  INDIOS  8i 

haps  it  was  the  stimulus  of  mountain  air,  a  bracing  cli- 
mate, that  got  him  out  of  his  habitual  bookishness. 
Here,  at  any  rate,  there  was  neither  the  warmth  nor  the 
color  of  the  tropics  to  entice  him  to  the  indolent  dream- 
ing that  one  of  his  temperament  might  easily  yield  to  in 
the  lowlands  of  Colombia.  The  peculiar  lustre  of  the 
grey-green  Bogota  tableland,  the  cool  crystalline  atmos- 
phere, invited  him  to  continual  physical  exercise.  For 
days  at  a  time  he  went  on  long  horseback  rides.  Then, 
tiring  of  this,  and  feeling  something  of  the  restraint  ex- 
perienced by  the  stranger  who  exerts  himself  abnormally 
in  the  rarefied  air  of  the  higher  Andes,  he  fell  into  the 
easy  habits  of  the  pleasure-loving  Bogotano.  Muffled 
warmly  in  a  ruana,  he  strolled  comfortably  about  the 
streets  of  the  city,  amused  by  the  chaffering  of  peons 
in  the  market  place,  enchanted  by  the  quaint  and  varied 
architecture  of  the  houses  and  public  buildings,  the  gro- 
tesque paintings  and  bas-reliefs  in  the  churches;  or  else 
he  would  sit  by  the  hour  in  the  open  window  of  some 
cafe  on  the  Cathedral  Esplanade,  watching  the  gay  throng 
of  idlers  and  politicians  for  whom  this  is  a  favorite  ren- 
dezvous. The  dust  and  cobwebs  of  the  Museo  did  not 
attract  this  former  dabbler  in  antiquities,  who  abandoned 
himself  eagerly  to  the  fleeting  impressions  gathered  from 
an  altogether  pleasing  environment.  And  Raoul,  natu- 
rally secretive,  gave  him  the  vaguest  outline  only  of  the 
course  and  the  result  of  his  studies. 

The  discovery  that  made  the  deepest  impression  on 
Raoul  took  place  under  circumstances  which  intensified 
his  superstitious  feeling  in  regard  to  everything  con- 
nected with  the  buried  treasure.  He  was  on  one  of 
numerous  trips  to  Lake  Guatavita.    Riding  alone,  he 


82  THE  GILDED  MAN 

reached  the  gloomy  body  of  water  toward  nightfall. 
Tethering  his  horse  near  the  trail  at  the  edge  of  the  plain 
over  which  he  had  ridden,  he  approached  the  lake  on 
foot,  his  mind  penetrated  by  the  absolute  silence  of  the 
place.  He  had  come  for  no  specific  purpose  except  to 
examine  further  the  old  Spanish  cutting  that  gashes  the 
great  hill  which  originally  rose,  a  solid  wall  of  rock,  above 
the  unknown  depths  of  the  waters.  Through  this  narrow 
cleft,  on  the  instant  that  it  was  completed  three  cen- 
turies ago,  a  mighty  torrent  had  hurled  itself  into  the 
valley  beyond.  As  this  torrent  subsided  and  the  lake 
shrank  to  its  present  compass,  a  wide  margin  of  pre- 
cipitous shore  was  left  bare  to  the  scrutiny  of  treasure 
seekers.  Even  after  the  lapse  of  centuries  this  portion 
of  the  lake's  basin  still  shows  the  ravages  wrought  by 
the  Spaniards.  It  remains  a  gaunt,  jagged  surface  of 
rock  and  flinty  gravel,  unclothed  by  tree  or  shrub — an 
ancient  sanctuary  whose  violation  defies  the  repairs  of 
time. 

Raoul  smiled  contemptuously  at  these  evidences  of 
the  rude  labors  of  the  early  Spaniards.  With  modern 
science  to  back  him  he  would  not  attack  the  problem  in 
this  way.  He  would  pierce  this  ancient  secret  to  its 
heart  by  subtlety,  not  brute  force.  For  the  hundredth 
time  he  went  over  the  system  of  lines  and  levels  by 
which  he  and  David  planned  to  tunnel  their  way  to  the 
coveted  prize,  indicating  to  himself  the  various  points 
from  which  they  proposed  to  start  their  work,  and  noting 
and  comparing  the  obstacles  they  would  encounter  by 
each  route. 

Thus  occupied,  Raoul  slowly  circled  the  lake,  follow- 
ing the  precarious  path  that  still  remained  along  the  edge 


LA  REINA  DE  LOS  INDIOS  83 

of  the  old  high-water  mark — the  path  upon  which  had 
marched  the  gaily  vestured  Chibcha  devotees  in  the 
pomp  of  their  semi-annual  festival,  when  the  dancing 
waves  radiating  from  the  heavily  laden  rafts  of  the 
Gilded  Man  and  his  court,  washed  over  their  sandalled 
feet,  and  all  was  sunshine  and  joyous  laughter,  glitter  of 
gold  and  emerald  offerings  ready  poised  to  be  hurled, 
with  shouts  of  triumph,  to  the  insatiable  God  in  his 
crystalline  caverns  below. 

Scenes  from  the  old  legend  flashed  across  the  prosaic 
details  of  Raoul's  mining  schemes,  as  he  stood  in  the 
shadow  of  the  majestic  hill  that  lifted  its  huge  shoulders 
behind  him.  Not  a  ripple  scarred  the  surface  of  the 
sombre  waters.  The  ancient  God,  it  would  seem,  wait- 
ing in  vain  the  tribute  that  once  was  his,  had  grown 
angry  and  made  of  his  Sacred  Lake  a  shrunken  circle  of 
dark  and  sinister  meaning. 

Into  its  silent  depths,  fascinated  by  the  desolation 
surrounding  him,  Raoul  gazed  intently.  He  would  revive 
the  old  ceremony.  He  would  bring  an  offering  to  this 
hidden  God — an  offering  bearing  a  menace,  a  demand  for 
the  treasure  that  he  felt  already  in  his  grasp.  He  seized 
a  stone  from  the  many  that  were  strewn  at  his  feet.  It 
was  smooth,  worn  by  the  streams  through  which  it  had 
chafed  its  way  hither;  he  paused  as  he  weighed  it  thought- 
fully in  his  outstretched  hand.  Then  he  threw  it  high 
in  air,  over  the  center  of  the  pool.  The  sound  of  the 
falling  missile  plunging  through  the  waters  echoed  sul- 
lenly along  the  towering  walls  of  granite.  The  weird 
effect  delighted  him,  and  again  and  again  he  cast  stones 
into  the  water,  dislodging  some  of  the  more  unwieldy 
rocks  from  their  resting-places  and  watching  them  bound 


84  THE  GILDED  MAN 

and  ricochet,  with  a  thunderous  noise,  down  the  precipice 
after  the  others. 

In  the  midst  of  this  fantastic  play  he  was  arrested  by 
the  cry  of  a  human  voice.  High,  clear  and  sibilant  it 
came;  a  word  of  command,  as  it  seemed,  out  of  the 
empty  space  above: 

"Silence!" 

He  thought  it  might  be  the  rustle  of  the  wind  that 
had  just  sprung  up  and  was  stirring  the  gnarled  branches 
of  the  trees  fringing  the  brow  of  the  hill  upon  whose 
precipitous  slope  he  was  standing.  Carefully  he  scanned 
the  rocky  pinnacles  rising  on  either  side  of  him.  If  it 
was  not  the  wind,  the  invisible  being  whose  voice  he 
had  heard  might  be  hidden  in  one  of  the  many  clefts  that 
furrowed  the  face  of  the  hill  behind  him. 

Again  he  heard  the  command.  Silvery,  unmistakably 
human ;  the  peremptory  voice  came  from  ^ome  one  near 
at  hand,  a  few  hundred  yards,  it  might  be,  from  where 
he  stood: 

"Silencel" 

The  tall,  slim  figure  of  a  woman,  clad  in  flowing  white 
robe,  with  dazzling  arm  stretched  downward,  flashed  in 
sharp  outline  against  the  dark  hillside.  She  stood  just 
above  him,  on  a  projecting  shelf  of  rock.  Her  eyes, 
calm  and  stern,  were  not  turned  toward  Raoul,  but  fixed 
intently  on  the  lake,  as  if  beholding — or  expecting  to 
behold — something  there  that  was  hidden  from  all  others. 

Involuntarily  Raoul  bent  his  head  to  this  singular 
apparition,  scarcely  knowing  whether  it  was  a  creature 
of  his  imagination,  conjured  out  of  the  strange  fan- 
cies awakened  by  the  lonely  scene,  or  a  real  woman, 
statuesque,  beautiful. 


LA  REINA  DE  LOS  INDIOS  85 

Why  was  she  here?  Whence  had  she  come?  How  ad- 
dress her?  Vague  questions  crowded  upon  him,  giving 
place  finally  to  the  conviction  that  he  was  an  intruder 
and  had  unwittingly  offended  one  whose  rights  here  were 
supreme.  And  then  he  yielded  to  a  feeling  of  shame  at 
being  caught  in  senseless  boy's  play. 

"Pardon,  Senorita,"  he  murmured  lamely. 

"Ah,"  she  sighed,  a  trace  of  irony  in  her  voice;  "it  is 
I,  a  stranger  here,  who  must  ask  pardon  for  daring  to 
interrupt  you." 

"Again — ^pardon,"  he  said,  moved  by  the  seriousness, 
the  bitterness  in  her  tone.  "Surely,  you  are  not  a  stran- 
ger to  Guatavita,  to  Bogota?"  he  added,  not  concealing 
his  astonishment. 

"My  home  is  far  from  here,"  she  said  simply.  "Four 
days  ago  I  left  it  for  the  first  time  to  go  to  Bogota." 

"And  you  visit  the  Sacred  Lake  on  your  way  to  the 
city!" 

"My  fathers  sacrificed  here,"  she  said  proudly.  "I 
am  an  Indian,  the  daughter  of  those  who  once  poured 
their  treasure  into  the  lake  which  you  have  defiled  with 
stones." 

"Sajipona!"  called  a  harsh  guttural  voice  from  the 
trail  that  followed  the  cutting  made  by  the  Spaniards 
in  the  mountain's  side. 

"Si,  padre  mio,"  she  answered,  slowly  descending  to 
the  path  upon  which  Raoul  was  standing. 

In  the  gathering  darkness  Raoul  saw,  just  emerging 
from  the  cleft  in  the  rocks,  the  huge  figure  of  a  man, 
dressed,  as  all  travelers  are  in  the  mountains,  in  wide 
sombrero,  capacious  ruana,  great  hair-covered  leggings 
reaching  to  the  waist,  his  spurred  heels  clattering  on  the 


86  THE  GILDED  MAN 

stones  as  he  walked  towards  them.  Two  mules  followed 
closely,  the  bridle  of  the  foremost  held  in  his  hand;  be- 
hind these  came  a  burro,  loaded  with  mountainous  bag- 
gage which  swayed  from  side  to  side  as  the  patient  little 
animal  picked  his  way  along  the  treacherous  path. 

"Good  evening,  senor,"  said  the  man  suavely,  as  if 
Raoul  were  some  old  acquaintance  whom  he  expected  to 
meet.  *'It  grows  dark  quickly.  Moreover,  it  is  far  to 
the  city  and  the  beasts  are  tired.  We  stop  for  the  night 
at  La  Granja.    And  you,  Senor?" 

"My  horse  is  fresh,  I  will  ride  to  Bogota." 

"A  stranger?"  queried  the  man. 

"An  American." 

"Ah!"  Then,  as  if  to  atone  for  his  surprise:  "Bueno, 
in  Bogota  my  house  is  yours." 

Only  the  sure-footed  mules  of  the  Andes  could  have 
threaded  this  handsbreadth  of  a  path  in  safety,  and  only 
a  horsewoman  of  the  lithe  grace  and  dexterity  of  this 
daughter  of  the  mountains  could  have  swung  herself  with 
such  slight  assistance  into  the  high,  clumsy  saddle  as  did 
this  girl  addressed  as  Sajipona. 

"Watch  your  burro,  Senor,"  warned  Raoul,  viewing 
with  some  anxiety  that  much  encumbered  animal  waver- 
ing disconsolately  on  the  brink  of  the  precipice.  "He 
will  slip  into  the  lake." 

"Eh,  Senor!"  grunted  the  man,  vaulting  heavily  to  the 
back  of  his  mule,  at  the  same  time  spurring  and  then 
checking  him  with  the  reins.  "He  knows  his  business, 
the  canaille!  Besides,"  he  added,  chuckling  to  himself, 
"we  carry  no  treasure  for  Guatavita.  Since  the  days  of 
Sajipa,  men  pay  no  tribute  here — they  look  for  it 
instead." 


LA  REINA  DE  LOS  INDIOS  87 

"That  is  true,"  murmured  Raoul.  Then,  addressing 
the  departing  travelers:  "May  you  have  a  pleasant  ride, 
Senorita!     And  you,  Senor;  I  may  see  you  in  Bogota?" 

"In  the  Calle  de  Las  Flores,  Senor,"  called  the  other 
briskly.  "Ask  for  Rafael  Segurra;  always — remember! 
— at  your  service." 

Sajipa — Sajipona!  The  two  names  persisted  in 
Raoul's  thoughts  as  he  rode  home  that  evening.  Over 
and  over  again  he  passed  in  review  the  details  of  his 
strange  encounter  with  this  mysterious  girl  who,  in  spite 
of  the  exquisite  fairness  of  her  complexion,  called  herself 
an  Indian  and  claimed  these  old  worshipers  of  the 
Lake  God  for  her  ancestors.  Who  was  she?  Could  it 
be  that  his  search  for  the  descendant  of  that  almost 
mythical  line  of  monarchs  had  been  so  unexpectedly, 
completely  rewarded?  He  could  hardly  wait  for  the 
morning  to  make  the  inquiries  that  he  planned. 

"Ah,  yes,"  he  was  assured;  "this  Rafael  Segurra  is 
quite  a  man  in  his  way — a  'politico,'  strong  with  the  gov- 
ernment. He  lives  far  from  here — on  a  hacienda — no 
one  knows  where.  And  his  daughter — ^he  brings  her  to 
Bogota?  That  is  strange!  The  beautiful  Sajipona! 
Who  knows  if  she  really  is  Don  Rafael's  daughter! 
There  is  a  mystery,  a  tradition  about  her.  Yes,  some 
say  that  she  has  in  her  veins  the  blood  of  that  poor  old 
zipa  that  the  Spaniards  roasted  alive  because  he  wouldn't 
tell  where  he  had  hidden  his  treasure.  Still,  how  can 
that  be  if  Don  Rafael  is  her  father?  Ah,  no  one  can 
be  sure,  Senor — their  home  is  so  far  away.  But — she  is 
very  beautiful.  And  there  are  many,  many  lovers — so 
they  say." 


88  THE  GILDED  MAN 

The  information,  picked  up  from  various  sources, 
strengthened  Raoul's  first  impression,  and  from  that  time, 
he  became  a  constant  visitor  in  the  little  house  on  the 
Calle  de  Las  Flores. 


VIII 


A  RIVER  INTERLUDE 


ON  the  deck  of  the  wheezy,  palpitating  river  steamer, 
"Barcelona,"  toiling  slowly  up  the  turbid  waters 
of  the  Magdalena,  sat  the  usual  throng  of  passengers  who 
are  compelled  to  sacrifice  two  weeks  of  their  lives  every 
time  they  travel  from  the  seacoast  to  Colombia's  moun- 
tain capital.  Fortunate  such  travelers  count  themselves 
if  their  lumbering,  flat-bottomed  craft,  its  huge  stern 
wheel  lifted  high  above  the  down-rushing  eddies  and 
whirlpools,  escapes  the  treacherous  mudbanks  which  form 
and  dissolve  in  this  ever-shifting,  shallow  current,  and 
which  not  infrequently  elude  the  vigilance  of  the  navi- 
gator. 

On  this  particular  voyage,  however,  it  is  pleasant  to 
record  that  the  ''Barcelona,"  in  spite  of  various  tempta- 
tions to  the  contrary,  had  behaved  in  a  most  decorous 
manner,  diplomatically  avoiding  the  aforesaid  mudbanks, 
submerged  treetrunks  and  the  like  and  giving  promise 
of  an  early  arrival  at  her  destination  in  the  Upper  Mag- 
dalena. 

In  any  part  of  the  world  except  Colombia  the  progress 
of  this  steamer  up  the  river  on  this  occasion  would  have 
been  followed  with  the  liveliest  interest  from  one  end 
of  the  country  to  the  other.    News  bulletins  would  have 

89 


90  THE  GILDED  MAN 

chronicled  every  detail  of  her  voyage;  there  would  have 
been  editorial  Sf>eculation  as  to  the  possible  delays  she 
might  encounter;  predictions  of  the  outcome  of  her  snail- 
paced  journey  and,  finally,  statements — bogus  or  other- 
wise— would  have  come  every  now  and  then  from  the 
important  personage  who  headed  the  list  of  the  "Barce- 
lona's" passengers.  For  there  was  an  unhappily  impor- 
tant personage  on  board — a  personage  who,  much  to  his 
own  amazement,  had  helped  in  the  making  of  history, 
and  who  was  now  on  his  way  to  report  to  the  President 
of  the  Republic  the  details  of  what  he  had  done. 

Some  men,  according  to  one  familiar  with  the  accidents 
common  to  humanity,  have  greatness  thrust  upon  them. 
General  Herran  was  neither  bom  great,  nor  had  he,  of 
his  own  free  will,  achieved  greatness.  But  it  had  been 
thrust  upon  him.  Without  thought  or  act  of  his  own  he 
awoke  one  morning  to  find  himself  famous.  It  was  an 
unenviable  kind  of  fame,  won  in  an  opera-bouffe  sort 
of  way,  and  might,  in  some  countries,  have  cost  the  gen- 
eral his  head.  But  in  Colombia  there  was,  happily,  no 
danger  of  this.  Having  lost  his  head  once  why  should 
he  lose  it  a  second  time,  and  just  because  he  had  fallen 
a  victim  to  the  wiles  of  the  Panamanians? 

Here  is  the  brief  but  important  chapter  of  history  in 
which  General  Herran  played  a  leading  part.  In  the 
performance  of  his  duty  to  quell  any  and  every  uprising 
which  might  occur  on  the  Colombian  cozist  he  had  gone 
with  his  army  to  the  Isthmus,  where,  he  had  been  told, 
something  like  a  revolution  was  in  progress.  At  Colon 
he  had  been  courteously  met  on  shipboard  by  representa- 
tives of  this  revolution.  On  their  friendly  invitation, 
and  without  disembarking  his  troops,  he  and  his  staff  of 


A  RIVER  INTERLUDE  91 

officers  had  then  been  escorted  politely  across  the  Isthmus 
to  Panama  where,  much  to  their  astonishment,  they  were 
promptly  lodged  in  jail — a  climax  which  any  one  but 
this  unsuspecting  general  might  have  foreseen.  During 
his  absence  his  troops  were  sent  back  by  the  revolution- 
ists to  Colombia — and  thus,  without  the  firing  of  a  shot, 
the  Republic  of  Panama  achieved  its  independence. 

On  board  the  "Barcelona,"  freed  from  the  problem  of 
keeping  the  Isthmians  within  the  Colombian  Union, 
tjJ  General  Herran  gave  no  evidence  of  any  disastrous  effect 
i  on  his  own  fortunes  following  his  memorable  experience 
of  Panama  diplomacy.  The  center  of  a  convivial  group 
of  admiring  friends,  flanked  by  an  inexhaustible  supply 
of  "La  Cosa  Sabrosa," — the  suggestive  title  given  by  one 
enthusiast  to  the  native  rum  which  accompanied  them 
in  an  endless  array  of  demijohns — this  excellent  leader 
of  armies  appeared  to  be  making  a  triumphal  progress 
homeward,  rather  than  a  decidedly  ignominious  retreat. 
His  large  mirthful  brown  eyes,  peering  out  of  a  boyish 
face  fringed  by  a  heavy  black  beard,  were  undimmed  by 
regrets  and  gave  no  token  of  the  wily,  self-seeking  poli- 
tician their  possessor  was  said,  by  his  enemies,  to  be. 
"El  General,"  as  he  was  usually  called,  was,  in  fact,  the 
best  of  good  fellows ;  one  who,  we  can  well  imagine,  might 
easily  forget  so  paltry  an  adjunct  as  his  troops,  lured  by 
the  promise  of  a  lively  hour  or  so  in  a  gay  city  with  con- 
genial companions.  "Bobo"  his  detractors  might  call 
him,  or  "tonto" — but  never  "pendejo"  nor  "traidor." 

With  General  Herran  on  board  the  "Barcelona," 
although  not  exactly  of  his  party,  and  certainly  not  in 
the  least  of  the  military  persuasion,  was  a  round- 
paunched,  bullet-headed  little  man  who,  arrayed  in  the 


92  THE  GILDED  MAN 

flimsiest  of  apparel,  a  wide-flapping  Panama  sombrero 
coming  down  to  his  ears,  paced  restlessly  about  the  deck, 
fanning  himself  vigorously  with  a  huge  palm-leaf  fan. 
Although  of  pure  Spanish  lineage,  there  was  nothing  of 
the  traditional  polish  of  his  race  in  this  explosive  person's 
manner  or  speech.  He  had  rolled  about — one  can  hardly 
describe  his  mode  of  travel  by  another  phrase — among 
many  people  and  had  recently  settled  down  in  a  delight- 
fully fever-ridden  section  of  Colombia  to  practice  medi- 
cine. "Doctor  Quinine"  he  was  called — behind  his  back 
— and  it  is  said  that  he  had  simplified  the  methods  of  his 
profession  by  administering,  on  all  occasions  and  for  all 
diseases,  the  one  simple,  famous  drug,  discovered  cen- 
turies ago  by  his  ancestors  in  his  native  Peru.  Quinine 
and  a  few  drastic  purgatives  summed  up  his  medical 
creed.  If  these  remedies  failed  to  cure — and  they  some- 
times did  fail — ^why,  the  unfortunate  victim  was  simply 
a  "canaille,"  and  had,  through  his  own  stupidity,  or 
malice,  defeated  the  otherwise  infallible  result  of  the 
doctor's  treatment. 

The  quininizing  of  the  human  race,  however,  was  not 
the  mission  upon  which  Dr.  Manuel  Valiente  Miranda 
had  at  present  embarked.  He  had  recently  made  a 
journey  to  the  United  States,  whither  he  had  gone  to 
take  out  a  patent  on  some  marvelous  "pildoras  de 
quinina"  of  his  own  concoction.  Having  succeeded  in  the 
main  object  of  his  trip,  and  having  failed  incidentally 
to  sell  a  single  box  of  these  same  patented  "pildoras"  to 
any  one  of  the  benighted  thousands  whose  faith  was 
pinned  to  the  ordinary  medical  practitioner,  he  had  re- 
solved to  return  to  his  old  occupation  of  dosing  with 
quinine  the  faithful  on  the  Colombian  coast.    On  his 


A  RIVER  INTERLUDE  93 

homeward  journey,  however,  he  met  a  party  of  Americans 
who  induced  him  to  abandon  for  a  time  his  original 
project  and  to  join  them  in  a  trip  to  Bogota.  As  he 
was  a  man  of  independent  means,  a  political  exile  from 
his  native  land,  with  no  family  ties  whatsoever,  there  was 
nothing  to  hinder  this  sudden  change  in  his  plans.  Hence 
his  presence  on  the  "Barcelona,"  where  he  had  assum.ed 
guardianship  over  his  American  friends — whom  he  abused 
on  occasion,  as  was  his  wont  with  those  he  liked — and 
where  he  engaged  in  sarcastic  tilts  with  his  old  ally  "El 
General." 

In  the  political  upheaval  caused  by  the  secession  of 
Panama  Doctor  Miranda  took  especial  delight;  nor  did 
he  hesitate  to  upbraid  those  in  authority  for  what  he 
called  their  lack  of  gumption  in  the  present  situation. 
He  predicted,  moreover,  the  coming  supremacy  of  "los 
Yankees"  in  South  America.  In  all  of  this  Doctor 
Miranda  was  good  naturedly  tolerated  by  his  Colombian 
friends,  who  suffered  his  sarcasm  much  as  they  did  his 
quinine,  ignoring  the  bitterness  out  of  regard  for  the 
curative  virtue  behind  it. 

Harold  and  Una  Leighton,  David  Meudon,  Andrew 
Parmelee  and  Mrs.  Quayle  were  the  Americans  to  whom 
Doctor  Miranda  had  attached  himself  on  this  pilgrimage 
to  Bogota.  It  was  an  oddly  assorted  pajty.  That  the 
persons  composing  it  should  be  voyaging  together  up  the 
Magdalena,  with  an  eccentric  Peruvian  physician  as  a 
sort  of  cicerone,  and  in  friendly  intimacy  with  a  group  of 
discredited  army  officers  accused  of  a  traitorous  aban- 
donment of  the  national  cause,  formed  one  of  those  curi- 
ous situations  not  unusual  in  South  American  travel. 

The  reader  has  already  learned  of  the  decision  reached 


94  THE  GILDED  MAN 

by  Harold  Leighton  and  David  to  visit  Bogota  in  order 
to  solve  there  the  mystery  of  the  three  months  following 
the  dynamite  explosion  in  the  Guatavita  tunnel.  As  her 
uncle  had  foreseen,  Una  insisted  on  going  with  them,  and 
had  brought  Mrs.  Quayle  along  besides.  There  was  no 
particular  reason  why  that  estimable  lady  should  accom- 
pany them.  She  had  rarely  ventured  beyond  the  borders 
of  her  native  Connecticut,  and  could  certainly  be  of  no 
possible  use  on  so  long  and  difficult  a  journey  as  this. 
But  something  had  to  be  done  with  her.  She  was  afraid 
to  be  left  alone  at  Stoneleigh,  and  as  she  was  anxious 
about  Una  it  seemed  best  on  the  whole  to  take  her  along. 
She  proved  an  inoffensive  traveler  and  gave  amusement 
to  more  than  one  tourist  by  her  extraordinary  costumes, 
especially  the  massive,  old-fashioned  jewelry,  with  which 
her  hands  and  neck  were  covered  and  from  which  she 
refused  ever  to  be  parted. 

The  trip  was  a  hard  one  for  Leighton,  who  was 
wedded  to  his  quiet  methodical  life  in  Rysdzde,  and  who 
had  no  mind  for  the  distractions  and  annoyances  of  for- 
eign travel.  He  was  spurred  to  activity,  however,  by  his 
interest  in  the  psychological  puzzle  presented  by  David, 
added  to  which  was  a  growing  curiosity  regarding  the 
mysterious  Indian  lake  and  its  reputed  treasure.  An 
ordinary  mining  scheme,  no  matter  how  promising,  would 
not  have  moved  the  philosophic  master  of  Stoneleigh. 
But  here  was  something  out  of  which  might  come  a  fine 
scientific  discovery  revealing  the  secrets  of  a  bygone 
civilization.  Hence,  he  had  not  regretted  his  resolution 
to  make  this  quixotic  pilgrimage  and,  as  he  had  latterly 
fallen  into  a  sort  of  dependence  on  Andrew  Parmelee  for 
much  of  the  detail  work  connected  with  his  scientific 


A  RIVER  INTERLUDE  95 

studies,  he  had  arranged  with  the  village  authorities  for 
the  schoolmaster  to  accompany  him  to  Colombia. 

Andrew  was  not  a  little  alarmed  at  the  intimate  daily 
association  with  Una,  the  object  of  his  adoration,  which 
such  a  journey  involved.  But  the  fancied  terrors  of  the 
situation  had  their  compensations.  It  might  even  happen 
that  in  the  primitive  region  to  which  they  were  going  he 
could  be  of  vital  service  to  this  stony-hearted  fair  one — 
a  posssibility  that  filled  him  with  dreams  of  deadly  peril 
by  land  and  sea  in  which  he  acted  the  part  of  res- 
cuer to  helpless  innocence.  So,  this  modern  knight 
errant  was  miraculously  strengthened  to  ward  off  the 
attacks  of  his  Aunt  Hepzibah,  and  departed  on  his  mis- 
sion fired  with  all  the  zeal  of  the  hero  of  La  Mancha, 
his  high  resolve  unclouded  by  the  horrors  that  speedily 
came  to  him  in  the  rotund  nightmare  known  in  the  flesh 
as  Doctor  Miranda. 

*'Ah,  this  little  Yankee,"  repeatedly  declared  that  rest- 
less follower  of  Aesculapius,  regarding  the  bewildered 
Andrew  with  professional  glee;  ''he  must  take  my  pills 
or  he  will  die!" 

Then,  Andrew,  helplessly  declaring  that  he  never  felt 
better  in  his  life,  would  be  seized  by  the  merciless  doctor, 
his  eyelids  forced  apart  until  the  whites  of  the  eyes  were 
fully  exposed  to  whoever  cared  to  inspect  them,  while  a 
triumphant  announcement  marked  the  success  of  the  dis- 
mal exhibit:  "See!  it  is  all  yellow!  This  leetle  fellow 
have  the  malaria,  the  calentura.  And  he  refuse  to  take 
my  pills — the  estupido!" 

But  if  Andrew  was  disturbed  by  these  alarming  out- 
breaks of  the  doctor,  his  companions  enjoyed  to  the  full 
that  mental  and  physical  relaxation  experienced  by  many 


96  THE  GILDED  MAN 

only  in  the  tropics.  An  endless  panorama  of  primeval 
forest,  broken  at  intervals  by  clusters  of  wattled  Indian 
huts,  known  as  villages,  with  high-sounding  names,  to  the 
Magdalena  boatmen,  gave  to  the  long  river  journey  the 
pleasant  surprises  of  some  half  remembered  dream. 
There  was  the  charm  of  the  familiar  as  well  as  the  pic- 
turesque in  the  drowsy  air,  the  swift  oily  flow  of  turbid 
waters,  the  flashing  green,  gold  and  scarlet  of  the  riotous 
shore.  Merely  to  feel,  if  only  for  a  day,  the  changing 
moods  of  this  tropical  nature,  more  than  repaid,  one  felt, 
all  the  hardships  and  weariness  of  primitive  travel. 

For  Una  and  David  all  this  formed  a  memorable  inter- 
lude in  their  mutual  experiences.  Even  the  complex  mis- 
sion upon  which  the  girl  had  entered  was  forgotten  in 
the  novelty  of  the  world  to  which  chance  had  brought 
her.  The  scenic  splendor  of  the  river  exceeded  anything 
she  had  imagined.  She  was  fascinated  by  the  wide  sweep 
of  water,  the  foliage,  the  glorious  passion-flowers  that 
embroidered,  here  and  there,  the  thick  mantle  of  green 
vines  and  swaying  lianas  that  bound  the  treetops  to  .the 
river  beneath;  by  the  flocks  of  parrots,  glistening  like 
living  emeralds  in  the  sun-bathed  air,  chattering  their 
language  of  wild  happiness  as  they  flew  from  branch  to 
branch  on  the  silent  shore.  Never  had  she  beheld  such 
serene,  graceful  creatures  as  the  swans — she  took  them 
for  swans,  although  Leighton  chuckled  grimly  when  ap- 
pealed to  on  the  subject — great,  long-necked  birds,  wheel- 
ing and  soaring  far  above  the  steamer,  clouds  of  shim- 
mering white  in  a  sea  of  purest  sapphire.  White,  too. 
with  head  and  neck  a  brilliant  scarlet,  was  the  stately 
King  of  the  Vultures,  surrounded  by  a  fluttering  throng 
of  dusky  followers,  dining  on  a  dead  alligator. 


A  RIVER  INTERLUDE  97 

"See,  Senorita!"  exclaimed  Miranda,  pointing  to  a 
bowerlike  opening  amid  the  bushes  and  trees  on  the  shore. 
"Ah,  he  is  one  bad  fellow,  that  canaille!" 

"I  see  nothing.    Oh,  yes — another  dead  alligator!" 

"Dead!"  laughed  the  doctor.  "He  is  just  one  trap. 
Soon  he  come  together — so! — and  catch  his  dinner." 

It  was  a  familiar  scene  on  this  river  of  the  tropics:  an 
alligator  lying  motionless  on  the  shore,  his  yellow,  mot- 
tled jaws  open,  waiting  for  his  prey.  In  form  ar.d  color 
he  seemed  a  part  of  the  dead  branches  and  tangle  of 
brushwood  he  had  chosen  for  his  resting  place.  Once 
recognized,  however,  and  the  malignant  creature  became 
a  vivid  symbol  of  the  ruthless  death  with  which  he  threat- 
ened whoever  mistook  his  yawning  mouth  for  a  rift  in  a 
fallen  tree-trunk. 

"What  a  monster!"  exclaimed  David,  roused  from  his 
daylong  dreams. 

"Estupido!"  retorted  Miranda.  "He  wait  for  his  din- 
ner— as  you  and  I — that  is  all.  The  so  cruel  alligator, 
you  know,  is  good  mother  for  the  young  ones.  She  love 
them  better  than  some  womens." 

"That  hideous  brute!" 

"Si,  Senor!"  declared  the  doctor.  "So  soon  that  they 
hatch  themselves,  she  carry  the  young  ones  in  the  mouth 
and  teach  them  to  hunt.  She  fight  for  them  and  die,  if 
it  be  so." 

Miranda's  vague  natural  history  was  of  the  kind  de- 
rived from  wonder-loving  natives.  It  blended  well  with 
the  Magdalena's  scenic  marvels,  the  wild  animal  life, 
glimpses  of  which  were  caught  at  every  hand,  the  dark- 
skinned  natives  in  their  rude  dugouts — all  that  set  this 
apart  as  a  sort  of  primeval  world  far  removed  from  any 


98  THE  GILDED  MAN 

hint  of  the  modem.  But  the  skepticism  of  the  scientist 
was  proof  against  idle  tales. 

"I  am  not  sure  that  your  theory  of  the  alligator  is  cor- 
rect, Senor  Doctor,"  remarked  Leighton  dryly. 

"Ah,  carai!"  spluttered  Miranda,  wheeling  about,  ever 
ready  for  the  fray. 

"What  you  say  about  the  care  of  the  female  alligator 
for  her  young  may  be  true  enough,"  said  the  savant, 
ignoring  the  scowl  with  which  he  was  regarded;  "but 
that  the  brute  over  there  in  the  bushes  is  holding  his 
mouth  open  by  the  hour  in  that  ridiculous  fashion, 
hoping  that  something  may  walk  into  it,  is  unreason- 
able." 

"Then,  what  for  she  do  it?"  demanded  the  doctor 
severely. 

"I  can't  tell  you  that,"  admitted  Leighton,  adding, 
with  a  touch  of  humor,  "perhaps  he  finds  it  comfortable 
on  a  hot  day  like  this  to  get  as  much  air  as  he  can.  Of 
course,  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  would  close  his  mouth 
quickly  enoiigh  if  any  creature  walked  into  it." 

"I  agree  with  Mr.  Leighton,"  ventured  the  school- 
master. 

"Ah!"  sniffed  the  doctor  scornfully.  "And  you, 
Senorita?" 

"Why,"  said  Una  doubtfully,  enjoying  the  doctor's 
wrath,  "he  certainly  does  look  hungry,  doesn't  he?  I 
wouldn't  trust  him — although  he  seems  to  be  asleep." 

"And  you,  Senor?"  glaring  at  David. 

"Oh,  I'm  not  a  naturalist,"  he  laughed.  "But,  he 
looks  like  a  pretty  good  sort  of  trap,  just  the  same." 

"Bueno,  General,  what  sayest  thou?"  asked  the  doc- 


A  RIVER  INTERLUDE  99 

tor  somewhat  mollified.  ''What  is  that  cayman  doing 
there  under  the  trees?" 

General  Herran  gazed  meditatively  at  the  monster  who 
was  unconsciously  causing  this  pother  in  natural  history, 
and  his  eyes  had  a  reminiscent  twinkle  as  he  answered 
the  question: 

"That  cayman  with  his  mouth  open  is  like  the  Yankee 
waiting  for  Colombia  to  walk  in." 

"And  you  walked  in!"  shouted  Miranda  delightedly. 

"Well,  I  walked  out  again,"  said  the  other  com- 
placently. 

"But  you  left  Panama  inside  the  mouth!" 

"Have  your  joke,  Senor  Doctor,"  said  Herran,  not 
relishing  the  broad  allusion  to  his  discomfiture.  "But 
perhaps  your  American  friends  here  will  find  a  cayman  in 
the  bushes.    Why  do  they  go  to  Bogota  just  now?" 

"They  are  friends  to  you.    With  you  it  is  all  right." 

"I  hear  that  the  peons  are  rising  against  the  Yankees." 

"The  canaille!    They  can  do  nothing." 

"Besides,"  pursued  the  general,  "excellent  and  harm- 
less as  this  learned  Senor  and  his  family  are,  I  can  hardly 
appear,  under  all  the  circumstances,  as  protector  and 
champion  of  a  party  of  Americans." 

General  Herran  spoke  in  so  rapid  an  undertone  that 
only  one  to  whom  Spanish  is  the  native  tongue  could 
have  followed  him.  But  Leighton's  keen  intelligence, 
although  he  was  not  well  versed  in  Spanish  idioms,  was 
quick  to  catch  at  least  an  inkling  of  what  was  passing 
between  his  two  companions. 

"There  is  danger  for  Americans  traveling  in  the  in- 
terior?" he  asked. 

"I  not  say  so,"  replied  the  doctor  stoutly. 


100  THE  GILDED  MAN 

Herran  tugged  at  the  tangles  of  his  bushy  beard.  "I 
hear  that  some  peons  have  left  Bogota  to  fight  the 
Yankees  on  the  coast,"  he  said.    "But — it  is  nothing." 

"Well,  what  shall  we  do?" 

The  general  shrugged  his  shoulders.  Miranda  fanned 
himself  more  vigorously  than  ever. 

"It  is  not  important,  Senor,"  he  said  impatiently. 
"These  people  are  good  peoples;  they  are  not  caymans." 

"Perhaps  it  is  better  to  wait  before  you  go  to  Bogota," 
persisted  Herran. 

"Wait  in  the  river?"  angrily  demanded  the  doctor. 

"I  don't  believe  there  is  any  danger.  I  love  this 
country,"  said  Una.  "Let's  go  to  Bogota,  Uncle 
Harold." 

"Heavens,  child!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Quayle  tremulously, 
the  heavy  gold  rings  that  adorned  her  fingers  clicking 
together  in  dismay.  "With  all  these  savage,  half-dressed 
natives  about,  threatening  the  lives  of  innocent  Ameri- 
cans— and  poor  Mr.  Parmelee  down  with  this  terrible 
fever " 

"I  am  not,"  feebly  protested  Andrew. 

"Yes,  that  is  so! "  exclaimed  the  doctor,  a  joyous  grin 
wrinkling  his  face.  "The  vieja  (old  lady)  speak  right. 
We  stay  at  Honda  and  give  this  little  fellow  my  pills." 

"There  is  sense  in  your  plan,"  declared  Leighton.  "If 
we  can  be  comfortable — and  safe — at  Honda,  we  will 
stay  until  we  know  what  is  happening  away  from  the 
river,  and  until  Mr.  Parmelee  regains  his  health  under 
your  treatment." 

"My  dear  Mr.  Leighton,  I  assure  you, "  began 

the  schoolmaster  piteously. 

"Don't  be  an  estolido!"  interrupted  Miranda  brusk- 


A  RIVER  INTERLUDE  loi 

ly.  "Soon  you  will  be  all  right  with  my  pills.  This 
little  vieja,  she  know — she  is  very  wise." 

Mrs.  Quayle's  gray  ringlets  bobbed  deprecatingly  at 
this  generous  tribute  to  a  hitherto  unsuspected  sagacity 
on  the  part  of  their  modest  owner,  while  Andrew  looked 
more  uncomfortable  and  woebegone  than  ever. 

"Doctor,  you  are  sure  that  Mr.  Parmelee  has  this 
miserable  fever?"  inquired  Una  anxiously. 

"Senorita,"  declared  the  little  man,  drawing  himself 
up  impressively,  "I  never  mistake.  I  have  been  doctor 
when  thousand  and  thousand  die  of  the  calentura " 

"Good  heavens!  Poor,  dear  Mr.  Parmelee!"  mur- 
mured Mrs.  Quayle. 

"And  I  know,"  continued  Miranda,  ignoring  the  in- 
terruption. "I  say  he  have  the  calentura,  the  malaria. 
You  will  see  in  the  eyes — I  will  show  to  you." 

Andrew,  prepared  for  what  was  coming,  eluded  his 
medical  tormentor,  seeking  safety  behind  the  chair  of 
the  portly  Leighton. 

"Caramba!  que  estupido!"  growled  the  doctor,  balked 
of  his  prey.  "Bueno,"  he  added,  fanning  himself  re- 
signedly, "we  shall  see.  In  Honda  you  take  my  pills. 
Soon  we  will  be  there.  And  then  it  is  good  that  everyone 
take  my  pills.  I  am  friend  to  you.  I  will  take  the  care, 
I  charge  nothing  for  the  family." 

"I'll  not  stay  in  Honda,"  said  David,  breaking  the 
silence  following  this  wholesale  offer  of  assistance.  "I 
must  get  to  Bogota  as  quickly  as  possible.  Once  there 
I  can  let  you  know  if  it's  safe  to  travel  into  the  interior." 

"A  good  idea,"  assented  Leighton. 

"If  it's  dangerous  for  us,  it's  dangerous  for  you," 
objected  Una. 


102  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"Oh,  I'll  take  a  burro  loaded  with  the  doctor's  pills 
along  with  me,"  said  David.  "I  know  the  country.  I 
have  friends  in  Bogota;  there  is  no  danger.  And  I  leave 
you  in  good  hands." 

"So,  that  is  settle,"  remarked  Miranda  complacently. 
"Very  good!  I  take  care  to  your  families.  But — you 
will  beware,  my  young  fellow." 

"I  tell  you  I'll  have  a  burro  load  of  your  pills,  doc- 
tor 1" 

"That  is  good.  You  are  not  estupido,  like  this  leetle 
fellow  with  the  malaria!  Remember,  these  people  are 
no  friend  just  now  to  the  Yankee." 

"Everyone  knows  me  here;  I  have  no  enemies,"  was 
the  confident  reply. 

Honda,  the  picturesque  little  river-port  whence  the 
traveler  from  the  coast  sets  out  on  muleback  for  his 
three  days'  journey  up  the  mountains  to  Bogota,  was 
reached  on  the  following  day,  after  a  twenty-five  mile 
trip  by  rail  from  La  Dorada,  the  terminus  of  the  Mag- 
dalena  steamers.  Charming  as  Honda  is  architecturally, 
its  quaint  red-tiled  houses  nestling  against  a  background 
of  radiantly  green  foothills  over  which  the  winding  trails 
leading  to  the  far  distant  capital  are  scarcely  ever  with- 
out their  ascending  or  descending  trains  of  jostling 
mules  and  burros,  the  place  has  something  of  a  bad 
name  among  foreigners  for  its  fevers.  Whether  or  not 
its  reputation  in  this  respect  is  deserved  would  be  hard 
to  say.  For  the  traveler,  certainly,  who  has  been  con- 
fined for  ten  days  to  the  rude  quarters  provided  by  a 
river  steamer,  the  little  town  comes  as  a  welcome  respite 
in  a  long  if  not  uninteresting  journey.  Here,  for  the  first 
time,  he  tastes  the  freedom  and  glamour  of  the  Andes; 


A  RIVER  INTERLUDE  103 

and  in  the  movement  and  bustle  incident  to  setting  out 
on  the  arduous  pull  over  the  primitive  passes  that  thread 
their  way  across  the  mountains,  there  is  the  stimulus 
that  comes  with  the  promise  of  adventure  and  discovery. 
Honda,  with  its  radiant  sunshine,  its  tilted  streets,  its 
cool  white  buildings  and  low  rambling  hostelries  hidden 
under  a  veil  of  flashing  greenery,  its  sparkling  little 
mountain  stream  tumbling  beneath  a  venerable  bridge 
that  savors  of  the  days  of  Spanish  conquest  and  romance, 
is  the  link  of  emerald  between  the  mighty  river  of  the 
tropics  and  the  vast  highlands  that  stretch  upward  to 
the  region  of  perpetual  snow.  As  an  emerald  it  lives 
ever  after  in  the  traveler's  memory. 

In  this  village — it  is  hardly  more  than  that — oriental 
in  its  sensuous  beauty,  American  of  a  century  or  two 
ago  in  character  and  outward  aspect,  the  "Barcelona's" 
passengers  were  content  to  stay  for  a  time.  Una's  de- 
light in  the  picturesque  little  settlement  was  marred  by 
the  impending  separation  from  David.  It  was  not  merely 
his  absence  that  caused  her  unhappiness;  she  worried 
over  the  dangers  that  she  believed  awaited  him  in  Bogota. 
Her  anxiety  was  increased  by  the  rumor,  reaching  the 
travelers  on  their  arrival  at  La  Dorado,  that  war  had 
been  declared  between  the  United  States,  and  Colombia. 
There  was  no  truth  in  this  rumor;  it  was  without  official 
confirmation,  and  ridiculed  alike  by  Doctor  Miranda, 
David  and  Leighton.  But  it  was  credited  by  most  of 
the  natives,  whose  belief  was  stoutly  upheld  by  the  prin- 
cipal American  resident  of  Honda,  an  amiable  patriarch 
who  had  once  acted  as  his  government's  representative 
and  was  known  throughout  the  republic.    True  or  false, 


104  THE  GILDED  MAN 

the  rumor  did  not  add  to  the  comfort  of  the  travelers, 
and  intensified  Una's  desire  to  keep  David  with  the  rest 
of  the  party  until  they  could  all  set  out  together  for 
Bogota. 


IX 

ON   INDIAN   TRAILS 

DOCTOR  MIRANDA  was  right  about  Andrew.  By 
the  time  he  had  finished  moving  his  party  and  their 
luggage  from  the  stifling  railroad  shed  to  the  cool  court- 
yard of  Honda's  principal  inn,  the  schoolmaster  had  been 
beaten  in  his  last  feeble  fight  for  liberty  and  had  become 
the  victim  to  an  unlimited  amount  of  quininizing.  No 
need  now  to  force  his  eyelids  apart  to  reveal  the  telltale 
yellow  within.  Even  a  tyro  in  such  matters  could  see 
from  his  jaundiced  appearance,  his  quick  breathing,  his 
general  inertia,  that  he  was  in  the  first  stages  of  an  attack 
of  fever.  This  being  beyond  dispute,  the  little  doctor 
dropped  his  fighting  humor  for  one  of  bustling  activity, 
beneath  which  there  lurked  a  rough  sort  of  tenderness 
for  his  unhappy  patient.  A  bed,  a  pitcher  of  "lemon 
squash,"  and  a  box  of  the  famous  "pildoras,"  were  quickly 
provided  by  dint  of  much  storming  at  the  indolent  hotel 
servants  and  angry  prodding  of  the  astonished  proprietor. 
When  all  his  arrangements  were  perfected,  Andrew  com- 
pletely in  his  power  and  stuffed  as  full  as  might  be  with 
quinine,  the  triumphant  Miranda  rejoined  his  friends,  his 
rubicund  features  beaming  with  satisfaction. 

"No!  No!  my  lady,"  he  answered  Una's  anxious  in- 
quiries, "there  is  no  danger.    That  leetle  fellow  has  my 

105 


io6  THE  GILDED  MAN 

pills  and  plenty  of  squash.  He  cannot  die.  Soon  he  will 
be  well.    You  will  see.    I  am  doctor  to  him." 

His  assurances  had  their  effect,  although  they  failed  to 
convince  the  despondent  Mrs.  Quayle,  who  shook  her 
head  dolefully,  rocking  herself  back  and  forth  in  her 
chair  and  bewailing  the  sad  fate  that  was  awaiting 
''poor  dear  Mr.  Parmelee  in  this  desolate  country."  At 
all  of  which  the  irascible  doctor  scowled  ominously,  tak- 
ing her  complaint  as  a  reflection  on  his  medical  skill. 
Leighton,  however,  faced  the  situation  in  a  matter  of  fact 
way,  while  David  set  about  the  necessary  preparations 
for  his  journey  to  Bogota.  An  excellent  opportunity 
offered  that  very  day  to  join  General  Herran's  party  in 
the  trip  over  the  mountains. 

A  train  of  twenty  mules  and  burros  was  needed  for 
the  expedition,  and  to  procure  these  and  load  them  with 
the  necessary  baggage,  called  for  no  small  amount  of 
work  and  skillful  management.  The  stone  courtyard  of 
the  inn  rang  with  the  shouts  of  burro  drivers,  the  quar- 
rels of  peons  intent  on  selling  their  wares  to  travelers  at 
the  best  prices,  and  the  threats  and  commands  of  General 
Herran  and  his  officers.  Above  this  din,  apparently  neces- 
sary on  such  occasions,  one  could  hear  the  strident  voice 
of  Doctor  Miranda,  browbeating  some  luckless  vendor 
of  merchandise,  or  ridiculing  the  exertions  of  those  who 
would  bestow  a  maximum  of  baggage  on  a  minimum  of 
burro.  In  spite  of  the  confusion,  however,  everything 
moved  along  in  as  orderly  and  expeditious  a  manner  as 
is  possible  with  these  ancient  methods  of  travel.  By 
midday  the  last  load  was  adjusted,  the  twenty  animals 
forming  the  cavalcade  stood  strapped  and  ready  for  the 
start. 


ON  INDIAN  TRAILS  107 

Hot,  stifling  was  the  air  in  the  courtyard;  the  cobbled 
pavement  of  the  street  outside  fairly  baked  beneath  the 
relentless  sun.  Most  of  the  shops  and  tiendas  were  closed 
for  the  noon  siesta,  and  only  a  few  listless  stragglers  ven- 
tured beyond  the  cool  white  portals  of  the  houses.  It 
was  not  a  happy  hour  in  which  to  commence  a  difficult 
journey;  but  General  Herran,  marvelously  energetic  for 
once,  had  planned  to  cover  a  certain  distance  before 
nightfall.  So,  without  more  ado,  the  "bestias"  were  mar- 
shaled, single  file,  and  driven  out,  with  much  shouting 
and  laying  on  of  goads,  into  the  street,  where  they  stood 
patiently  waiting  for  the  eight  travelers  whom  they  were 
to  carry  to  Bogota. 

"We  are  off  at  last!"  announced  David,  entering  the 
salon  where  Leighton,  Una,  Mrs.  Quayle  and  Miranda 
awaited  the  caravan's  departure.  "In  less  than  a  week 
you'll  hear  from  me.  By  that  time,  I  hope,  you'll  be 
ready  for  Bogota." 

"I  can  never  go  on  one  of  those  vicious  animals," 
sighed  Mrs.  Quayle,  her  bejeweled  fingers  nervously 
clutching  the  arms  of  the  chair. 

"Vicious!"  exclaimed  David.  "They  are  harmless  as 
kittens." 

As  if  in  denial  of  the  comparison,  one  of  the  burros 
standing  near  the  doorway  stiffened  out  his  forefeet  and 
brayed  with  all  the  vehemence  of  which  burro  lungs  are 
capable.  He  was  followed  by  his  comrades  in  misery — 
a  full  chorus  of  brays  from  which  no  discordant  note 
was  missing.  Had  it  been  the  traditional  bellowing  of 
a  herd  of  bulls — it  was  noisy  enough  for  that — the  timid 
lady  could  not  have  been  more  alarmed,  nor  the  doctor 
more  delighted. 


io8  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"Bravo!"  he  shouted.  "They  want  you,  my  Senora. 
They  wait  for  you." 

"Good-byel"  said  David,  clasping  Una's  hand. 

"Good-bye!"  she  said,  almost  inaudibly. 

"Doctor,  look  out  for  them,"  he  called  to  Miranda. 

"Be  sure!  Be  sure!"  was  the  response,  a  glint  of  sym- 
pathy ligting  his  eyes.  "Have  a  care  to  you.  I  have 
that  leetle  fellow  in  bed.  He  is  full  of  lemona  squash 
and  my  pills.    Soon  his  calentura  is  kill." 

"Well,  don't  kill  him  too!" 

"Ah,  canaille!" 

The  members  of  General  Herran's  party  had  already 
mounted  and  were  slowly  disappearing  down  the  bend  of 
the  street,  pack-mules  and  burros  in  the  lead.  The  gen- 
eral himself,  on  a  pinched-up,  piebald  horse  that,  like 
Hamlet's  cloud,  bore  a  comical  resemblance  to  a  camel, 
lingered  behind  for  his  guest.  David's  bay,  lacking  in 
zoological  vagaries,  pranced  spiritedly  to  begone  as  soon 
as  it  felt  its  rider  in  the  saddle. 

"That  is  one  good  animal,"  commented  Miranda. 

"The  other  needs  your  pills,"  remarked  Leighton  sol- 
emnly. 

With  a  laugh  and  a  hearty  "adios!"  the  two  horsemen 
saluted  the  group  in  the  doorway  and  galloped  off  after 
their  companions.  Una  watched,  motionless,  long  after 
David  was  out  of  sight.  She  had  done  her  best  to  pre- 
vent his  going,  but  all  her  efforts  had  been  useless.  Nor 
could  she  explain,  even  to  herself,  why  it  was  that  she  so 
dreaded  his  leaving  their  party  to  travel  alone  with  Her- 
ran.  There  was  nothing  logical  in  the  feeling,  of  course, 
and  she  had  to  confess  that  for  once  she  was  influenced 
by  an  utterly  unreasonable  fear,  a  sort  of  superstition. 


ON  INDIAN  TRAILS  109 

The  journey  from  Honda  to  Bogota  is  a  scramble  over 
precipitous  trails  worn  into  the  living  rock  by  centuries 
of  travel,  through  wastes  of  traffic-beaten  mire,  along 
glades  of  dew-soaked  herbage  that  gleam  refreshingly 
under  cloudless  skies  in  a  wilderness  of  impenetrable 
forest.  No  other  city  of  like  size  and  importance  has 
so  rude  and  picturesque  an  approach,  nor  are  there  many 
that  keep  their  commerce  along  ways  and  by  methods  so 
unmodern.  The  stranger,  ignorant  of  the  simplicities 
of  South  American  life,  whether  in  town  or  country,  is 
bewildered  by  the  oddities  and  hardships  in  a  trip  of  this 
kind.  But  David  had  traveled  more  than  once  over  the 
Bogota  trail,  and  for  him  it  had  lost  its  novelty,  especially 
as  his  sole  aim  on  the  present  occasion  was  to  reach  his 
destination  as  quickly  as  possible.  Herran  had  a  similar 
feeling;  hence,  as  the  day  was  not  unpleasantly  warm, 
once  they  had  passed  beyond  the  lowlands  of  Honda  both 
men  urged  their  horses  on  to  top  speed.  In  a  short  time 
they  had  left  the  rest  of  the  party  far  behind  them,  and 
broke  into  a  race  over  the  rough  mountain  trail.  Tiring 
of  this,  they  dropped  back  to  a  more  sober  gait,  letting 
their  horses  choose  their  own  way  for  a  time. 

"I  telegraphed  from  Honda  that  we  were  coming," 
said  Herran  in  Spanish.  "They  are  looking  for  us  now 
in  Bogota." 

"Did  you  say  that  I  was  with  you?"  asked  David. 

"Surely.  As  an  officer  it  is  my  duty  to  give  complete 
information,"  was  the  somewhat  pompous  reply.  "I  gave 
the  names  of  all  who  are  in  your  party  and  told  why  they 
stayed  in  Honda." 

"Why  so  much  detail  about  us?    My  friends  and  I  are 


no  THE  GILDED  MAN 

not  connected  with  the  military  movements  of  the 
country." 

"That  may  be  true,  Senor.  But  you  travel  with  me 
and — I  am  ignorant  of  your  business,  you  know." 

"We  travel  partly  for  pleasure,  partly — I  am  interested 
in  a  Guatavita  mining  venture." 

"Sol  Will  they  know  that  when  they  see  your  name 
in  the  Bogota  papers?" 

"My  friend  that  I  am  going  to  visit  will  know,  of 
course.  I  wrote  to  him  that  I  was  coming.  Why  do 
you  ask?" 

"Ah!  Just  now,  it  may  be,  my  countrymen  will  not 
like  American  mining  ventures — or  Americans." 

"Then,  Americans  are  in  danger?" 

"How  can  I  say,  Senor?"  he  answered  with  a  shrug. 
"I  have  lost  Panama,  they  say.  I,  too,  have  enemies. 
Perhaps  I  am  in  danger.  But  you  have  a  friend  in  Bo- 
gota?   He  is ?" 

"An  American;  Raoul  Arthur." 

"I  have  heard  of  him." 

"He  is  well  liked  here." 

"That  is  good,"  commented  Herran  drily. 

For  the  first  time  since  he  had  been  in  Colombia  David 
felt  uneasy  as  to  the  possible  outcome  of  his  trip.  His 
friends,  in  reach  of  the  river  steamers,  could  leave  the 
country  at  the  first  sign  of  real  danger.  But  every  mile 
placed  between  himself  and  the  Magdalena  lessened  his 
chances  for  escape — and  that  he  might  need  to  get  out 
of  Colombia  in  a  hurry  was  evident  from  Herran 's  atti- 
tude, his  reserve,  his  ambiguous  answers  to  David's 
questions.  All  this  was  not  exactly  through  a  lack  of 
friendliness  on  the  general's  part.    David  knew  Herran 


ON  INDIAN  TRAILS  in 

fairly  well,  and  did  not  doubt  his  loyalty.  He  also  knew 
that  he  was  under  suspicion  on  account  of  the  Panama 
affair,  and  for  this  reason  would  have  to  be  extremely 
wary  in  extending  protection  to  an  American  seeking  to 
enrich  himself  in  Colombia.  Politically,  the  man  who 
lost  Panama  could  not  afford  to  let  his  name  be  further 
compromised. 

General  Herran,  however,  was  not  one  to  keep  up  an 
attitude  of  restraint  for  long.  The  air  was  bracing,  the 
mountain  trail  was  in  excellent  condition,  the  horses  were 
fresh  and  responded  readily  to  whip  and  bridle.  Under 
these  favoring  influences  the  two  travelers  soon  became 
sociable  enough,  and  even  joked  over  some'  of  the  sinister 
circumstances  attending  their  journey. 

"We  are  a  long  way  from  Panama,  Senor — and  Miran- 
da's pills!"  exclaimed  Herran. 

"Heaven  help  the  schoolmaster!"  laughed  David. 

"Ah,  poor  fellow!  To  be  at  the  doctor's  mercy!  But 
he  is  not  a  bad  doctor.  Only  nine  out  of  every  ten 
of  his  victims  die,  they  say.  Perhaps  this  schoolmas- 
ter   Have  you  your  pistol,  Senor?"  he  broke  off  sud- 
denly. 

"My  pistol.  General?" 

"For  a  salute  to  Panama  and  our  friends,"  explained 
the  other.  "You  do  not  know  the  custom  of  the  road 
to  Bogota  in  times  of  revolution — that  is,  at  all  times. 
And  you  have  no  pistol,"  he  added  with  a  sigh.  "But 
this  will  do  for  both  of  us." 

Reining  in  his  horse  at  a  shaded  bend  in  the  trail.  Gen- 
eral Herran,  unconsciously  following  the  Fat  Knight's 
memorable  exploit  on  Shrewsbury  Battlefield,  took  from 
his  hip  pocket  a  huge  case  bottle  and  handed  it  to  David. 


112  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"Fire  the  first  shot,  my  friend,  and  I  will  come  after 
with  a  long  one  for  your  Guatavita  mine." 

In  the  act  of  carrying  out  this  pleasant  suggestion,  the 
attention  of  David  and  Herran  was  suddenly  caught  by 
a  babel  of  voices — shouts  of  command,  the  tramp  of 
many  feet — coming  from  the  Bogota  end  of  the  trail. 
Interruptions  of  this  kind  are  more  serious  than  they 
may  seem  to  those  unfamiliar  with  Colombian  mountain 
travel.  So  rough  and  narrow  is  the  road  to  Bogota,  with 
sometimes  a  precipice  on  one  hand  and  a  sheer  wall  of 
rock  on  the  other,  that  the  problem  of  two  parties  passing 
each  other  is  not  always  an  easy  one.  Although  this 
is  the  chief  thoroughfare  between  the  national  capital  and 
the  Magdalena,  it  remains  quite  as  primitive  and  un- 
adapted  to  modern  needs  as  in  the  days  of  the  Indians. 
To  widen  and  pave  it  proved  more  of  a  task  in  road- 
building  than  the  Spanish  conquerors  cared  to  under- 
take; and  their  successors  in  the  government  of  the 
country  have,  until  now,  attempted  little  in  the  way  of 
improvement.  Thus,  travelers  from  the  lowlands  over 
this  Indian  trail  frequently  have  to  fight  for  a  passage 
through  a  descending  rabble  of  men  and  burros,  or  else 
allow  themselves  to  be  crowded  off  into  a  tangle  of 
underbrush  on  one  side  or  thrown  down  a  steep  cliff 
on  the  other. 

As  it  happened,  the  spot  chosen  by  General  Herran  and 
David  for  their  friendly  salute  was  a  particularly  awk- 
ward one  in  an  encounter  with  a  lot  of  travelers  coming 
from  the  opposite  direction.  In  front  of  them  the  trail 
rose  abruptly  in  a  long  zigzag  of  rocks  and  gullies,  down 
which  the  caravan  from  Bogota,  the  noise  of  whose  ap- 
proach grew  rapidly  more  distinct,  was  bound  to  descend 


ON  INDIAN  TRAILS  113 

upon  them.  Their  only  chance  to  escape  was  either 
through  a  morass,  covered  with  a  dense  forest  growth, 
or  else  up  a  hazardous  mountain  side,  strewn  with  boul- 
ders and  loose  stones.  Of  course,  they  might  retrace 
their  steps  until  they  foijnd  a  more  open  space;  but  this 
seemed  too  much  like  retreating  from  an  enemy  and  did 
not  recommend  itself  to  either  of  the  horsemen. 

"It  sounds  like  a  regiment  of  soldiers,"  said  David, 
taking  another  long  draught  from  the  Falstaffian  "pistol" 
and  returning  it  to  Herran. 

"Perhaps,"  replied  the  General,  indifferent  to  outside 
matters  until  he  had  finished  his  part  of  the  prescribed 
ceremony.  "And  here  we  are,"  he  added,  with  a  sigh 
of  contentment,  "saluting  Panama  and  an  American  com- 
pany, with  an  army  of  volunteers,  bent  on  licking  the 
Yankees,  coming  down  upon  us." 

"Are  you  sure?" 

"Caramba!  In  Honda  they  said  these  volunteers 
started  from  Bogota  three  days  ago.  They  are  due  here 
now." 

"We  must  meet  them,"  said  David,  upon  whom  the 
General's  "pistol"  had  not  failed  to  score. 

"Wait  a  moment!  As  Miranda  would  say,  these  peons 
are  canaille  and — there  is  no  room  for  a  meeting." 

Both  men  laughed.  Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  the  humor 
of  the  situation,  it  had  more  than  the  usual  peril  incident 
to  travel  on  the  Bogota  trail  to  be  comfortable. 

"Two  men  against  a  regiment!"  chuckled  Herran. 

"But  they  are  not  after  us,"  argued  David. 

"They  are  after  the  Yankees — and  you  are  a  Yankee. 
Well,  Senor,  what  shall  we  do?" 

"You  are  in  command,  Senor  General." 


114  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"Caramba!  Then,  let  us  march!  We  can't  jump 
down  those  rocks,  the  swamp  is  even  worse — and  we 
won't  retreat  before  a  lot  of  peons.  Forward,  Senor! 
We  can  at  least  use  pistols  if  we  need  to!" 

With  which  comforting  assurance  Herran  handed  one 
of  his  case  bottles  to  David.  This  the  latter  retained, 
first  joining  his  comrade  in  a  final  "salute,"  declaring 
all  the  while  that  this  kind  of  exercise  had  been  unknown 
to  him  for  years — a  statement  received  by  General  Her- 
ran with  the  skepticism  it  deserved.  The  two  hoises 
were  then  brought  into  line  and,  with  touch  of  whip  and 
spur,  commenced  a  scramble  up  the  trail,  at  the  top  of 
which  the  front  ranks  of  the  peons  were  just  visible. 

As  Herran  had  predicted,  the  travelers  with  whom  they 
had  to  contest  the  right  of  way  belonged  to  one  of  the 
volunteer  regiments  of  Bogota  peons  bound  for  the  Isth- 
mus. At  their  head  rode  Pedro,  "El  Rey,"  more  dilap- 
idated as  to  costume  but  more  joyous  of  mood  than  on 
that  memorable  morning  when  he  led  his  forces  down  the 
Calle  de  Las  Montanas  to  be  reviewed  by  the  President 
of  the  Republic.  He  had  parted  with  his  blacking  box 
and  in  place  of  it,  hanging  from  his  neck,  was  a  rusty 
old  sword  that  clanked  dismally  on  the  scarred  and  bat- 
tered ribs  of  the  solemn  burro  upon  which  he  was 
mounted.  Burros,  as  a  rule,  are  patient  animals,  taking 
whatever  comes,  whether  insult,  ridicule,  or  cajolery,  with 
unruffled  temper,  and  this  particular  specimen  of  the 
long-suffering  race  evinced  supreme  indifference  to  the 
military  honors  that  sat  so  weightily  upon  him.  Pedro, 
however,  was  not  unmindful  of  the  distinctions  he  had 
won.  Immediately  behind  him,  borne  by  two  of  his 
trustiest  lieutenants,  floated  the  flag  of  the  republic,  its 


ON  INDIAN  TRAILS  115 

red  and  yellow  folds  somewhat  faded  and  dusty  from  the 
three  days'  march,  and  flapping  now  in  anything  but  de- 
fiant fashion.  But  it  formed  a  good  background  to  the 
enthusiasm  of  leadership  that  marked  the  bearing  and 
illuminated  the  grimy  features  of  Bogota's  ex-bootblack 
and,  doubtless,  helped  keep  up  the  courage  and  patriotism 
of  his  followers.  The  latter  marched,  for  the  most  part, 
on  foot  and  in  such  straggling  lines  as  best  suited  them. 
When  it  first  set  out  from  Bogota  the  regiment  had  kept 
some  sort  of  military  order,  but  this  had  long  since  been 
abandoned,  and  the  host  of  men  and  boys,  some  thousand 
in  number,  jostled  each  other  and  choked  up  the  narrow 
trail  in  glorious  confusion. 

Having  reached  the  top  of  the  hill  overlooking  the 
sheltered  ledge  chosen  by  David  and  Herran  for  their 
impromptu  celebration,  the  volunteers  kept  right  on.  Led 
by  Pedro  and  his  two  banner-bearers,  they  plunged  down 
the  steep,  winding  trail,  crowding  upon  each  other,  shout- 
ing and  laughing,  filling  the  narrow  space  with  most 
unmilitary  disorder.  In  the  meantime  the  two  horsemen 
tried  their  best  to  reach  a  point  as  near  as  possible  to 
the  top  of  the  trail  before  the  volunteers  began  the  de- 
scent. In  this  they  failed,  and  the  inevitable  collision 
with  the  front  ranks  of  the  peons  took  place  half  way 
up  the  hillside.  Here  they  met  Pedro  and  his  immediate 
followers,  behind  whom  pressed,  with  increasing  energy, 
the  whole  rabble  of  peons.  But  the  dejected  burro,  whose 
duty  it  was  to  carry  the  leader  of  these  ragged  cohorts 
to  victory,  refused  to  be  hurried  by  those  behind  him. 
The  more  he  was  urged  the  greater  was  his  deliberation 
in  picking  his  way  among  the  treacherous  stones  covering 
the  trail.    Thumps  and  blows  failed  to  arouse  his  enthu- 


ii6  THE  GILDED  MAN 

siasm,  and  with  every  fresh  difficulty  presented  by  rock 
or  sudden  dip  in  the  pathway,  he  stopped  to  take  a  care- 
ful survey  of  the  surrounding  obstacles  before  proceeding 
with  his  journey.  Memories  of  past  disaster  had  taught 
him  the  value  of  caution  that  a  younger,  less  experienced 
burro  might  have  failed  to  observe.  But  the  horses  of 
David  and  Herran,  although  ancient  enough,  were  not 
afflicted  with  recollections  of  former  mishaps,  and  so 
plunged  into  the  ranks  of  the  peons  without  regard  for 
consequences. 

"Hug  the  side  of  the  road,"  cautioned  Herran  in  a  low 
voice.  "I'll  take  the  middle  and  try  to  distract  the  atten- 
tion of  these  people  from  you." 

"Salute,  Senor!"  cried  Pedro,  attempting  as  courteous 
a  greeting  as  his  burro  would  allow.  "What  news  from 
Panama?" 

Not  to  be  outdone  in  courtesy,  Herran  pulled  back  his 
horse  from  the  folds  of  the  flag  into  which  he  was  patri- 
otically heading,  and  offered  his  "pistol"  to  "El  Rey." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Pedro,  his  eyes  fairly  snapping  with 
astonishment;  "it  is  General  Herran!  Bueno,  Senor  Gen- 
eral, we  go  to  bring  Panama  back  to  Colombia." 

"That  is  well,"  replied  the  other,  diplomatically  ignor- 
ing the  implied  reproach;  "with  such  brave  men  you  will 
surely  succeed,  Senor  Capitan." 

"And  the  Yankees?"  queried  Pedro,  smacking  his  lips 
after  a  long  draught  from  the  General's  bottle. 

"Doubtless  you  will  find  them  in  Panama." 

The  news  that  this  was  General  Herran,  the  man  whom 
Panama  had  made  famous,  spread  like  wildfire  among  the 
volunteers,  who  crowded  together  excitedly,  bent  on  hear- 
ing the  latest  bulletin  from  the  land  they  were  pledged  to 


ON  INDIAN  TRAILS  117 

recapture.  Shouts  of  amazement,  indignation,  derision 
echoed  along  the  trail — expressions  of  hostility  that  might 
have  appalled  one  less  cool  than  Herran.  But  he  pre- 
tended not  to  notice  these  demonstrations,  and  devoted 
himself  to  Pedro,  who,  he  perceived,  was  moved  by  his 
flattery. 

"It's  a  bad  business,  Senor  Capitan,"  he  assured  him 
confidentially.  "But  the  country  is  safe  with  such  brave 
volunteers  to  defend  it." 

"And  you,  Senor  General,  you  fight  with  us?" 
"It  will  be  an  honor,"  graciously  replied  the  hero  of 
Panama.     "But  first  I  must  see    His  Excellency,  the 
President,  in  Bogota.    I  will  tell  him  how  you  are  hur- 
rying to  the  rescue  of  the  Isthmus." 
"Where  are  your  soldiers?" 

"Some  of  them  you  will  meet  on  the  way  to  Honda." 
"An  officer  was  with  you  just  now.  Where  is  he?" 
In  the  throng  of  volunteers  surrounding  them  it  was 
impossible  to  distinguish  David,  who  had  doubtless  seized 
the  opportunity  created  by  the  sudden  recognition  of  Her- 
ran to  force  his  way  up  the  side  of  the  trail  as  the  General 
had  suggested. 

"Caramba!"  exclaimed  Herran.  "He  has  gone  on 
ahead.  He  knows  the  President  awaits  us  and  the  des- 
patches of  great  importance  to  the  republic  that  we  bring 
him.  I  must  hurry.  Pardon,  Senor  Capitan,  if  I  am 
forced  to  leave  you  so  quickly.  Perhaps  we  meet  soon 
again  in  Panama." 

With  a  fine  show  of  deference,  Herran  saluted  the  King 
of  the  Bootblacks,  whose  eyes  sparkled  proudly  at  this 
recognition  of  his  rank  from  a  brother  officer,  and  who 
signified  his  appreciation  of  the  tribute  by  a  wave  of  the 


ii8  THE  GILDED  MAN 

hand  to  his  followers  and  a  command  to  them  not  to  delay 
the  General. 

''Senores!"  he  shouted,  "make  way  for  the  great  Senor 
General !  He  comes  for  the  Republic.  After  he  has  seen 
Don  Jose,  he  will  go  with  us  to  bring  back  Panama." 

The  order  was  given  with  all  the  flourish  that  had  won 
renown  for  Pedro  as  a  polisher  of  boots  and  was  received 
by  the  volunteers  with  their  wonted  cheerfulness  and 
enthusiasm.  Unfortunately,  the  burro  who  had  the  honor 
of  carrying  "El  Rey"  was  so  unappreciative  of  his  rider's 
eloquence  that  he  allowed  himself  to  be  jostled  into  too 
close  proximity  with  the  bearers  of  the  flag.  He  then 
became  so  hopelessly  entangled  in  his  country's  colors 
that,  uttering  a  dismal  bray,  he  was  tumbled  headlong 
down  the  slippery  hill,  dragging  the  amazed  and  pro- 
testing Pedro  with  him. 

Profiting  by  this  accident,  General  Herran  spurred  his 
own  horse  through  the  ranks  of  the  volunteers,  gaining 
at  last,  after  much  energetic  pushing  and  shoving,  the 
top  of  the  hill.  Here  he  paused  to  look  back,  with  an 
inward  chuckle,  at  the  excited  throng  of  men  and  boys 
from  whom  he  had  escaped,  and  to  pick  up  again  his 
fellow  traveler,  David.  But  David  was  nowhere  to  be 
seen.  Herran  expected  to  find  him  on  the  level  space 
at  the  top  of  the  hill;  that  he  was  not  there  filled  him 
with  anxiety.  Reasoning,  however,  that  if  the  volunteers 
had  attacked  David  he  would  have  heard  of  it,  and  con- 
vinced that  the  American  was  not  with  the  mob  he  had 
just  left,  he  set  spurs  to  his  horse,  expecting  to  find  him 
further  on.  After  all,  he  argued,  it  was  natural  that  a 
Yankee,  traveling  alone,  should  put  as  great  a  distance 
as  possible  between  himself  and  these  volunteers.    But, 


ON  INDIAN  TRAILS  119 

whatever  the  explanation,  David  was  not  to  be  found. 
There  were  no  cross  trails  from  the  main  Bogota  road 
into  which  he  might  have  blundered,  and  his  disappear- 
ance, therefore,  became  more  of  a  puzzle  as  Herran  trav- 
eled mile  after  mile,  at  the  best  speed  of  which  his  horse 
was  capable,  without  trace  of  him. 

In  a  way  General  Herran  felt  responsible  for  the  safety 
of  the  man  with  whom  he  had  been  traveling,  the  more 
so  that  this  man  was  a  foreigner,  belonging  to  a  nation 
whose  citizens  were  not  welcome  just  then  in  Colombia. 
Had  David  been  other  than  an  American,  Herran  would 
have  taken  his  disappearance,  puzzling  though  it  was, 
with  the  cheerful  indifference  peculiar  to  him.  But  the 
fact  that  he  was  an  American,  alone  in  a  hostile  country, 
appealed  to  a  chivalrous  strain  in  his  nature,  urging  him 
to  do  the  best  he  could  for  his  rescue. ,  Unfortunately, 
the  solving  of  the  simplest  of  problems  was  not  in  the 
General's  line,  and  he  painfully  turned  the  matter  over 
and  over  without  result,  one  way  or  the  other.  David, 
he  told  himself,  had  forced  his  way  through  the  ranks  of 
the  volunteers  without  attracting  attention.  He  felt  sure 
of  this  because  he  had  watched  his  ascent  of  the  trail  for 
a  good  part  of  the  way.  Hence,  he  could  not  be  with 
the  volunteers  now.  Only  a  few  of  the  latter  were 
mounted,  and  these  marched  in  the  front  ranks  where 
they  had  been  carefully  noted  by  Herran.  If  David  had 
remained  in  the  rear  ranks  of  the  regiment,  voluntarily 
or  as  a  captive,  his  horse  would  have  made  him  conspic- 
uous. Of  course,  during  the  commotion  following  the 
accident  to  Pedro  and  his  burro  almost  anything  might 
have  happened;  David  might  have  been  captured,  bound 
and  gagged,  his  horse  taken  away  and  he  himself  hidden 


120  THE  GILDED  MAN 

by  the  peons  who  held  him  prisoner  in  the  hope  of  future 
ransom.  But  this  was  all  too  bewildering,  too  complex 
for  Herran  seriously  to  consider.  Instead,  he  convinced 
himself  that  David  had  escaped  the  volunteers,  that  he 
was  no  longer  behind  him  on  the  trail,  that  he  must  there- 
fore be  in  front,  and  that  to  find  him  there  was  only  one 
thing  to  do — push  forward  as  fast  as  possible. 

Acting  on  this,  General  Herran  rode  without  stopping 
until  nightfall,  reaching  just  after  dusk — dusk  comes 
swiftly  enough  in  the  tropics — one  of  the  primitive  little 
hostelries  kept  for  the  accommodation  of  travelers  to  and 
from  Bogota.  Here,  as  is  usual  in  such  places,  there  was 
a  large  number  of  guests  intending  to  spend  the  night. 
This  posada,  or  inn,  was  a  one-storied,  rambling  affair 
consisting  of  three  rooms  and  a  verandah  sheltered  by 
the  overhanging  eaves  of  a  thatched  roof.  All  the  rooms 
were  filled  with  people,  most  of  them  lying  on  mats  spread 
on  the  floor;  the  verandah  was  similarly  occupied.  In 
the  dim  light  from  smoky  lanterns  it  was  difficult  to  tell 
who  these  people  were.  Herran,  confident  that  David 
was  among  them,  appealed  to  the  proprietor,  a  stolid 
looking  peon,  for  information. 

"You  have  a  Yankee  here,  Senor?" 

"No,  Senor." 

"A  Yankee  came  to-day  from  Honda?" 

"No,  Senor." 

"He  was  riding  alone  to  Bogota?" 

"No,  Senor." 

"A  young  man  on  a  bay  horse?" 

"No,  Senor." 

"Is  there  a  foreigner  here?" 

"No,  Senor." 


ON  INDIAN  TRAILS  121 

"A  foreigner  passed  here  to-day  on  a  bay  horse?" 

"No,  Senor." 

"Caramba,  hombre!  Have  you  ever  seen  a  foreigner 
here?" 

"No — yes,  Senor." 

"To-day?" 

"No,  Senor." 

Exasperated  by  what  he  considered  the  stupidity  of  the 
landlord,  Herran  addressed,  in  a  loud  voice,  the  various 
guests  who  were  preparing  to  pass  the  night  on  such  im- 
[^rovised  beds  as  they  could  get  for  themselves. 

"Senores,  I  am  looking  for  a  young  man,  a  foreigner, 
a  Yankee,  who  is  riding  to  Bogota  on  a  bay  horse.  He 
must  be  here.    Have  you  seen  him?" 

There  was  a  confused  murmur.  A  number  of  the  men 
sat  up  on  their  mats  and  repeated  energetically  the  land- 
lord's negative.  Others  grumblingly  denounced  all  Yan- 
kees as  robbers  and  disturbers  of  the  country's  peace. 
One  young  man,  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  an  army  offi- 
cer, recognizing  Herran's  rank,  politely  offered  to  share 
his  mat  with  him,  suggesting,  at  the  same  time,  that  he 
could  pursue  his  search  to  much  better  advantage  in  the 
morning.  As  further  inquiries  brought  out  nothing  new, 
Herran  accepted  this  officer's  hospitality,  wearily  resign- 
ing himself  to  the  conclusion  that  David  had  been  mys- 
teriously spirited  away,  and  was  about  to  be  shot  by  a 
lot  of  insane  peons,  led  on  by  the  ridiculous  Pedro. 
So  it  seemed  to  him  as  he  sank  into  a  nightmare-ridden 
sleep. 

Morning  failed  to  bring  the  expected  solution  of  the 
General's  difficulties.  In  the  bedlam  created  by  burros, 
horses,  travelers — all  trying  to  make  their  departure  from 


122  THE  GILDED  MAN 

the  inn  at  the  same  early  hour,  and  all  finding  their 
plans  delayed  by  some  fault  in  harness,  mislaying  of 
baggage,  or  other  inconvenience  peculiar  to  a  four-footed 
conveyance — there  was  no  sign  of  the  missing  David.  A 
number  of  native  merchants  on  their  way  from  Bogota 
to  the  coast,  who  had  lodged  at  the  inn  during  the  night, 
recognized  Herran,  and  although  their  greetings  were  cor- 
dial, the  oldtime  friendliness  was  tempered  by  the  uncer- 
tainty with  which  the  average  Colombian  viewed  this 
unfortunate  officer's  part  in  the  so-called  Panama  revo- 
lution. As  news  of  his  presence  spread  among  the  de- 
parting guests.  General  Herran  felt  the  restraint  as  well 
as  the  disagreeable  curiosity  with  which  he  was  regarded. 
This  made  his  search  for  David  more  difficult.  Under 
the  circumstances  it  was  not  easy  to  explain  why  he,  of 
all  men,  was  traveling  with  an  American;  hence,  he  was 
forced  to  speak  with  more  reserve  than  he  would  have 
liked  of  the  young  man's  disappearance. 

As  a  result  of  the  little  that  he  learned,  he  was  con- 
vinced that  David  had  neither  reached  nor  passsed  the 
inn  on  the  way  to  Bogota.  There  remained  two  alter- 
natives. Had  his  companion  been  carried  along  by  the 
volunteers?  Or,  had  he,  by  mistake,  of  course,  taken 
a  side  trail  from  the  main  road  and  thus  lost  himself  in 
the  labyrinth  of  mountains  and  forests  through  which 
they  were  traveling?  No  one  knew  of  such  a  side  trail. 
As  for  the  other  possibility,  there  was  nothing  to  do  but 
await  the  coming  of  his  own  party  of  men  and  officers 
whom  Herran  and  David  had  left  shortly  after  their  de- 
parture from  Honda,  and  who  must  have  met,  in  their 
turn,  the  volunteers  somewhere  on    the  road.     In  the 


ON  INDIAN  TRAILS  123 

meantime,  nothing  could  be  gained  from  the  landlord 
of  the  inn,  whose  intelligence  was  at  an  even  lower  ebb 
in  the  morning  than  on  the  preceding  evening.  This 
good-natured  but  fatuous  boniface  found  it  difficult  to 
sustain  a  conversation  on  the  most  ordinary  topics;  and 
as  a  result  of  his  intellectual  labors  with  him,  the  sociable 
Herran  was  nearing  the  extremity  of  misery  when  his 
own  party  arrived,  several  hours  after  the  last  traveler 

,   had  left  the  inn. 

■- '  "Ah,  yes,  Senor  General!"  groaned  Colonel  Rodri- 
guez, the  bustling  little  officer  in  charge  of  the  men  during 
Herran's  absence;  "we  met  the  volunteers.  They  wanted 
us  to  go  with  them  to  Panama.  They  waved  their  flag, 
they  shouted,  they  made  speeches,  they  cheered  the 
fatherland,  they  cursed  the  Yankees,  they  said  you  would 
lead  them  to  the  Isthmus.  Their  little  capitan,  who 
rode  on  a  burro  and  talked  peon  very  much,  said  we  be- 
longed to  them,  and  Colombia  depended  on  us.  It  was 
very  terrible.    We  thought  they  would  never  leave  us." 

"Did  you  meet  the  Yankee,  Don  David,  with  them?" 
asked  Herran. 

"Don  David?  But — is  he  not  with  you?"  they  asked 
in  return. 

"I  left  him  when  we  met  those  insane  volunteers." 

"But,  Senor  General,  they  said  that  a  young  man — 
it  must  be  Don  David — went  with  you." 

"Ah,  caramba!    Then  they  know  nothing?" 

"That  is  all,  Senor." 

"Then  he  is  lost,  that  little  fellow.  He  is  not  with  me, 
he  is  not  with  those  canaille — unless  they  hide  him,  or 
kill  him.    No  one  has  seen  him;  he  is  lost — or  dead," 


124  THE  GILDED  MAN 

Having  reached  this  decision,  there  was  nothing  fur- 
ther to  do  except  march  to  Bogota  and  telegraph  from 
there  the  news  of  David's  disappearance  to  his  friends  in 
Honda. 


AN  OLD  MYSTERY 

THE  vanishing  of  David  Meudon  in  broad  daylight 
while  traveling  on  one  of  the  main  thoroughfares 
of  the  Republic  became  the  sensation  of  the  hour  in 
Bogota.  It  excited  more  interest  even  than  the  return 
of  General  Herran  and  his  party  from  Panama.  The 
tale  of  David's  disappearance  three  years  before  was 
revived,  and  gossip  found  plenty  of  material  from  which 
to  weave  wild  romance  as  to  what  had  happened  on 
both  occasions.  But  you  can't  build  up  a  durable  ro- 
mance without  some  solid  fact  to  base  it  on,  and  since 
this  whole  affair  was  wrapped  in  mystery,  lacking  any- 
thing tangible,  public  interest  gradually  and  inevitably 
died  out.  Among  government  leaders,  however,  owing 
to  the  strained  relations  existing  between  the  United 
States  and  Colombia,  there  was  some  anxiety  over  the 
incident. 

General  Herran,  who  was  related  to  the  President  of 
the  Republic,  and  who  was  proved  to  have  had  nothing 
to  do — consciously,  that  is — with  the  loss  of  Panama, 
declared  that  the  government  was  responsible  for  David's 
disappearance.  He  argued  that,  as  the  country  was  not 
in  a  state  of  war,  the  marching  of  volunteer  regiments 
on  the  public  roads  was  a  menace  to  foreigners  having 

W5 


126  THE  GILDED  MAN 

business  in  Colombia,  and  that  therefore  these  regiments 
should  either  be  disbanded  or  else  ample  protection  be 
given  to  all  travelers  who  might  encounter  them.  As  it 
was  too  late  to  look  after  David — so  said  the  General — 
his  friends,  who  were  about  to  set  out  for  Bogota,  should 
at  least  be  guarded  from  a  like  fate  on  the  way  thither. 
Accordingly,  as  this  view  of  the  case  was  approved,  a 
company  of  soldiers  was  sent  to  Honda — and  thus  it 
happened  that  Doctor  Miranda,  Leighton  and  his  niece, 
Mrs.  Quayle  and  the  schoolmaster — recovered  from  his 
fever  and  the  Doctor's  pills — made  the  journey  under 
military  escort,  arriving  in  the  capital  quite  like  official 
personages. 

This  novel  manner  of  traveling,  although  it  kept  off 
vagrant  militia,  had  its  sinister  features  for  the  timid 
members  of  the  party.  Mrs.  Quayle,  whose  fear  of  a 
burro  grew  in  proportion  as  she  became  familiar  with  that 
harmless  and  necessary  animal,  believed  that  she  and 
her  friends  had  fallen  captives,  through  a  skillful  bit  of 
strategy,  into  the  enemy's  hands  and  were  being  led 
either  to  their  death  or  imprisonment.  To  this  belief 
she  stuck,  in  spite  of  the  vehemence  and  ridicule  with 
which  Doctor  Miranda  seasoned  his  arguments  against  it. 
Indeed,  had  she  dared  express  her  full  opinion  her  sus- 
picions would  have  involved  the  Doctor  himself,  whose 
explosive  habits  and  other  eccentricities  kept  her  in  a 
continual  state  of  alarm  that  was  increased,  every  now 
and  then,  by  his  malicious  allusions  to  the  jewelry  she 
wore.  Andrew,  inclined  to  attribute  his  fever  to  the 
famous  pills  and  the  heroic  treatment  to  which  he  had 
been  subjected,  secretly  shared  her  feeling,  and  was  in 
hourly  dread  of  some  new  calamity  striking  him  from  the 


AN  OLD  MYSTERY  127 

same  quarter.  Harold  Leighton  and  Una,  however,  were 
too  much  absorbed  in  David's  mysterious  fate  to  be 
greatly  concerned  by  what  was  going  on  immediately 
around  them.  The  old  savant,  unable  to  explain  the  dis- 
aster, was  distressed  beyond  measure  by  the  poignant 
grief  of  his  niece.  In  his  own  mind  he  was  convinced 
that  the  singular  occurrence  on  the  Honda  road  was  re- 
lated in  some  way  to  David's  former  disappearance,  and 
this  belief  stimulated  his  professional  eagerness  to  solve 
the  puzzle  presented  by  so  strange  a  coincidence.  Una's 
appeal,  therefore,  to  go  any  length  in  the  rescue  of  David 
needed  no  urging.  It  was  met  with  a  hearty  promise  of 
aid  from  Doctor  Miranda,  who  stormed  at  the  govern- 
ment, in  and  out  of  season,  for  permitting  bands  of  peons 
to  endanger  the  lives  of  harmless  travelers. 

The  Doctor  was  especially  indignant  with  Herran,  who 
called  upon  the  Americans  before  they  were  fairly  settled 
in  their  hotel  in  Bogota.  He  pitched  into  this  hapless 
officer  with  his  choicest  bits  of  vituperation,  until  Herran 
began  to  think  that  the  loss  of  one  man,  under  certain 
circumstances,  was  as  serious  an  affair  as  the  loss  of  an 
isthmus.  Leighton,  however,  did  not  share  Doctor 
Miranda's  views  of  the  matter. 

"Miranda  is  unreasonable,"  he  said  to  Herran.  "There 
is  a  mystery  in  this  case.  You  have  done  all  you  could 
to  save  the  young  man,  and  you  are  now  offering  to  help 
us." 

"That  is  right  1  That  is  right! "  agreed  Miranda.  "We 
must  find  him." 

"Anything  I  can  do "  volunteered  Herran. 

"Do  you  know  an  American  in  this  town  by  the  name 
of  Raoul  Arthur?"  interrupted  Leighton. 


128  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"How  not!     But— I  don't  like  him." 

"Never  mind.  I  must  see  him.  If  any  one  can  unravel 
this  thing,  he  can." 

"Mr.  Meudon  spoke  of  him.    I  will  find  him  for  you." 

"Do  you  know  where  he  lives?" 

"Surely,  Senor.    In  the  Calle  Mercedes." 

"Take  me  to  him." 

"Very  well,  Senor,"  said  Herran,  apparently  overcom- 
ing his  reluctance;  "that  is  settled.  First,  I  will  be  sure 
he  is  there.    Then,  this  night,  I  take  you  to  his  house." 

Una,  hearing  of  this  decision,  doubted  its  wisdom. 
From  the  few  references  David  had  made  to  his  partner 
in  the  Guatavita  mining  venture  she  had  felt  instinctively 
that  Raoul  was  his  enemy,  an  opinion  strengthened  by 
the  psychometer  test  used  at  Stoneleigh.  Leighton  had 
agreed  in  this  opinion,  more  or  less;  hence  Una's  surprise 
that  her  uncle,  who  was  usually  overcautious,  should  now 
turn  to  Raoul  for  help. 

"I  believe  the  man  knows  where  David  is,"  he  de- 
clared. 

"If  he  does,  he  will  never  tell  you,"  remonstrated 
Una. 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that." 

"You  may  force  him  to  do  something  fatal,"  she 
urged. 

"On  the  contrary!  By  going  to  him  at  once  I  will 
prevent  any  foul  play — if  there  is  to  be  any  foul  play." 

The  possibility  alarmed  her.  The  suspense,  the  mys- 
tery surrounding  David  seemed  more  than  she  could  bear. 
Bitterly  she  remembered  Leighton's  attitude  towards  him 
in  Rysdale.  And  now  that  their  trip  to  Bogota,  insisted 
on  from  the  first  by  her  uncle,  had  ended  as  it  had,  her 


AN  OLD  MYSTERY  129 

faith  in  him  was  sadly  shaken.  She  could  not  accept  his 
judgment  in  a  case  about  which  he  had  already  shown  so 
grave  a  lack  of  foresight.  Leighton,  on  his  part,  realized 
Una's  distrust  of  him.  He  did  not  try  to  dispel  this  feel- 
ing; but  the  knowledge  that  it  was  there  spurred  him  on 
to  do  his  best  and  with  the  least  possible  delay. 

So,  that  very  evening  Leighton,  piloted  by  Herran, 
sought  Raoul  Arthur's  abode  on  the  Calle  Mercedes. 
Like  most  Bogota  houses  of  the  humbler  sort,  this  was 
a  one-storied  building,  its  heavy  street  door  opening 
upon  a  wide  brick  corridor  leading  to  a  central  patio  from 
which  the  various  rooms  were  reached.  Following  Colom- 
bian custom,  the  two  men  entered  without  announcement 
and  made  their  way  along  the  unlighted  passage  to  the 
main  living  room,  extending  from  the  patio  to  the  street. 
A  lamp  at  the  center  of  a  long  table  heaped  with  books 
and  papers  distinguished  this  from  the  other  rooms  of 
the  house,  all  of  which  were  in  darkness  and  apparently 
uninhabited.  A  man,  somewhat  past  thirty,  his  hair 
slightly  grizzled,  his  features  pale  and  sharpened  from 
study,  sat  at  the  table  in  this  main  room  reading  a  much- 
worn  leather-bound  volume,  the  large  black  type  and 
thick,  yellowed  paper  of  which  gave  ample  proof  of  age. 
Aroused  by  the  noise  made  by  Leighton  and  Herran,  he 
closed  his  book  with  a  quick,  nervous  movement  and 
turned  to  the  doorway  where  his  two  visitors  stood. 

"This  is  Mr.  Raoul  Arthur?"  asked  Leighton  grimly. 

"Who  are  you?"  demanded  the  other,  his  strange,  shift- 
ing eyes  on  the  massive  figure  before  him. 

"My  name  is  Leighton.  I  am  looking  for  David 
Meudon." 

"He  is  not  here,"  was  the  quick  reply. 


130     .  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"I  hardly  expected  to  find  him  here,"  retorted  the 
savant. 

"Then  why  ask  me  for  him?" 

"You  were  once,  if  you  are  not  now,  Meudon's  busi- 
ness partner.  You  must  have  heard  of  his  disappearance. 
On  his  way  from  Honda  to  Bogota  he — well,  he  simply 
vanished.  That's  the  only  way  to  describe  it.  It  all 
happened,  no  one  knows  how,  a  few  days  ago.  The  same 
thing  took  place  some  years  ago  when  he  was  living  here 
with  you.  You  know  all  about  the  details  of  that  first 
disappearance." 

"You  are  mistaken,"  interrupted  Raoul.  "David 
Meudon  left  me  for  a  number  of  months.  On  his  return 
he  failed — or  didn't  think  it  worth  while — to  explain  his 
absence." 

"That  is  all  very  well.  Perhaps  he  could,  perhaps  he 
couldn't  explain  it.  At  any  rate,  you  thought  that  ab- 
sence sufficiently  peculiar  to  make  it  the  subject  of  an 
article  for  the  Psychological  Journal." 

Raoul  flinched  perceptibly  under  this  statement.  His 
cool  indifference  took  on  the  sort  of  cordiality  that  repels 
one  more  than  open  enmity.  Bending  over  the  table 
before  which  he  was  standing,  he  occupied  himself  in 
elaborately  sorting  and  rearranging  some  papers  at  which 
he  had  been  working. 

"Of  course,"  he  said,  "I  know  you  now!  Mr.  Harold 
Leighton.  I  didn't  place  the  name  at  first,  which  was 
altogether  stupid  of  me.  I  have  often  wanted  to  meet 
you.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  heard  of  your  coming.  It's 
a  rare  treat  in  this  out-of-the-way  part  of  the  world  to 
run  across  a  man  who  has  advanced  our  knowledge  of 
psychology  as  you  have." 


AN  OLD  MYSTERY  131 

The  profuse  compliment  was  not  relished  by  the  old 
savant.  "I  am  not  aware  that  I  have  advanced  our 
knowledge  of  psychology,  as  you  put  it,  one  iota,"  he 
said  testily.  "But  I  am  here  to  add  to  the  small  stock 
of  what  I  have  already  learned." 

"You  must  have  found  David  a  rare  problem  1"  ex- 
claimed Raoul. 

"You  know  him,  perhaps,  better  than  I  do." 

"Yes,  I  know  him.  That  is,  in  a  way.  Engaging  sort 
of  chap.  Clever,  and  all  that.  Mysterious,  too,  don't 
you  think?    So,  he  has  disappeared  again,  you  say?" 

"Don't  tell  me  that  you  have  not  known  of  it!  The 
whole  town  has  been  talking  about  it." 

"Rumors,  only  rumors,"  protested  Raoul.  "I  would 
like  to  hear  the  real  facts." 

"This  gentleman.  General  Herran,  with  whom  Mr. 
Meudon  was  traveling,  can  tell  you  the  facts,  such  as 
they  are.    But  I  can't  see  why  you  should  need  them." 

Raoul  turned  to  Leighton's  companion,  who  had  been 
trying  to  follow  what  the  two  men  were  saying.  As 
they  talked  in  English,  a  language  of  which  he  knew 
scarcely  a  word,  he  could  make  very  little  of  it.  Asked, 
in  Spanish,  to  give  the  details  of  his  ride  with  David, 
he  made  an  excellent  story  of  it,  relating  something  of 
the  discussion  that  had  absorbed  them  while  on  the  road 
together,  the  friendly  feeling  that  had  grown  up  between 
them,  its  touch  of  conviviality,  and  their  abrupt  separa- 
tion in  the  midst  of  their  encounter  with  the  regiment  of 
volunteers. 

Raoul  listened  intently  to  Herran's  narrative,  his  glance 
roving  restlessly  from  the  narrator  to  his  companion  and 


132  THE  GILDED  MAN 

back  again,  as  if  to  compare  the  effect  on  both  of  what 
was  said. 

"It's  a  strange  tale,  Senor,"  he  commented  when  Her- 
ran  had  come  to  the  end.  "These  things  with  a  touch  of 
mystery  in  them  are  always  fascinating — until  you  stum- 
ble on  the  clew.  Then  it's  very  simple.  I  suppose  you 
have  no  theory  to  explain  our  friend's  disappearance?" 

"None,  Senor." 

"You  have  just  told  me,  Mr.  Leighton,"  he  went  on, 
addressing  the  latter,  "that  you  are  here  to  add  to  your 
knowledge  of  psychology." 

"I  did." 

"Well,  what  do  you  make  of  it?  Here's  what  you  are 
looking  for — a  neat  psychological  problem  right  to  your 
hand." 

"I  don't  see  it,"  said  the  savant  impatiently. 

"That's  always  the  way  with  you  great  scientists! 
But — it's  simple,"  declared  Raoul,  a  note  of  triumph  in 
his  voice ;  "absolutely  simple — if  you  know  David  as  well 
as  I  do." 

"I  said  that  you  probably  know  him  better.  I  have 
not  known  him  as  long  or  as  intimately  as  you  have. 
But — again  I  fail  to  see  what  psychology  has  to  do 
with  it." 

"It  has  everything  to  do  with  it.  David  was  not  spir- 
ited away,  as  you  seem  to  imagine.  He  disappeared  of 
his  own  accord." 

"There  is  every  reason  to  think  the  contrary,"  said 
Leighton  contemptuously. 

"Oh,  of  course  I  may  be  wrong  in  my  theory.  But, 
as  there  is  no  other  evidence,  I  see  only  one  solution. 


AN  OLD  MYSTERY  133 

It's  the  clew  we  are  after,  you  know — and  the  clew  is 
right  under  your  nose." 

"Perhaps  you  are  on  the  wrong  scent.  Some  inves- 
tigators have  a  knack  of  being  cocksure  about  every- 
thing.   But — explain  your  meaning." 

"Very  well.  Let's  talk  as  one  psychologist  to  an- 
other, then.  Meudon  has  a  peculiar  temperament.  You 
probably  know  that.  But  you  may  not  know  that  the 
dual  personality  is  highly  developed  in  him.  Under 
strong,  sudden  excitement  this  personality  becomes 
greatly  exaggerated." 

"He  was  laboring  under  no  particular  excitement  at 
the  time  of  his  disappearance,"  objected  Leighton. 

"What  about  the  mission  he  was  on?  I  have  an  idea 
that  it  was  of  absorbing  importance  to  him.  Remember, 
he  was  revisiting  scenes  connected  with  an  episode  that 
for  some  years  he  has  been  trying  to  forget  but  which 
he  now  wants  to  revive.  And  then,  to  cap  the  climax, 
suddenly  he  comes,  slap  bang,  right  into  the  midst  of  a 
rabble  of  peons  who  would  be  only  too  glad  to  kill  him, 
or  imprison  him,  or  torture  him — or  anything  else  un- 
pleasant. The  same  crowd  tried  to  get  me  once,  so  I 
know  what  it  all  means." 

"All  this  is  true ;  but  the  excitement  was  hardly  enough 
to  drown  David's  normal  personality." 

"It  all  helps,  though.  It  predisposes  things.  It  is,  as 
I  look  at  it,  the  final  stage  setting,  with  all  the  characters 
in  their  places  awaiting  the  entrance  of  the  villain  to 
finish  up  the  tragedy.  And  in  this  case  the  villain  entered 
just  at  the  critical  moment.  Mr.  Leighton,"  he  asked 
abruptly,  "have  you  ever  known  David  to  drink  a  glass 
of  wine?" 


134  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"I  can't  say  that  I  have,"  he  answered  doubtfully. 

"Well,  alcoholic  stimulus,  with  certain  temperaments 
— you  know  what  it  does.  It  starts  up  an  altogether 
abnormal  psychology,  doesn't  it?" 

"Very  apt  to." 

"Depends  a  little  on  the  stage  setting,  doesn't  it?  But, 
even  without  that  it  has  its  odd  effects.  On  rare  occa- 
sions, for  instance,  I  have  known  Meudon  to  take  a 
single  drink  of  liquor.  The  result  has  been  similar  to 
that  brought  on  by  hypnotism." 

"Well?" 

"There's  your  clew!"  Raoul  announced  triumphantly. 
"You  have  heard  General  Herran's  story.  He  tells  us 
that  just  before  they  parted  he  and  David  drank  several 
toasts  together — and  the  toasts,  I  fancy,  were  stronger 
than  mere  wine." 

"You  think,  then " 

"Why,  it's  childishly  simple!  David  was  knocked  over 
by  a  force,  an  influence,  to  which  he  is  unaccustomed. 
He  is  not  at  all  a  drinking  man,  you  understand.  Quite 
the  reverse.  With  him  the  effect  of  drink  would  not  be 
in  the  least  like  ordinary  intoxication.  From  two  former 
experiences  I  know  that  it  would  be  far  subtler.  It  would 
produce  what  you  would  call  a  pseudo-hypnosis,  a  condi- 
tion of  abnormal  psychology." 

"Well?" 

"Don't  you  see  what  happened?" 

"I  have  not  had  your  experience  with  David,"  was  the 
sarcastic  reply. 

"It  is  not  a  question  of  mere  personal  experience,"  said 
Raoul  irritably;  "it  involves  what  we  know — or  guess — 
of  the  eccentricities  of  the  human  soul." 


AN  OLD  MYSTERY  135 

"You  are  an  enthusiast.  Be  more  explicit.  Don't 
wander  off  in  your  statements." 

"Very  well.  I'll  put  it  in  the  lingo  of  science  as  nearly 
as  I  can.  It  appears  to  me,  then,  that  David,  by  this 
little  exchange  of  pistol  shots,  as  you  call  them,  with 
General  Herran,  brought  into  activity  a  portion  of  his 
brain  that  had  not,  for  a  number  of  years,  intruded  it- 
self upon  his  conscious  life.  It  had  literally  been  sleep- 
ing all  that  time.  On  the  last  occasion  when  it  was 
"awake — ^when,  in  other  words,  he  was  under  the  sway 
of  this  subconscious  ego — he  was  here,  amid  the  very 
scenes  in  which  he  again  finds  himself.  A  moment  ago 
you  connected  his  first  disappearance  with  the  one  which 
has  just  taken  place  on  the  road  from  Honda.  Well,  the 
General's  'pistol,'  as  he  calls  it,  suddenly  threw  David 
back  into  the  memory  of  that  first  subconscious  experi- 
ence." 

"The  Ghost  of  the  Forgotten  found  at  last,"  mused 
Leighton,  more  to  himself  than  to  Raoul. 

"Exactly!     That's  a  good  way  to  put  it." 

"Suppose  your  theory  correct;  what  happened  after 
David's  subconscious  memory  was  awakened?" 

"As  a  psychologist,  you  are  better  able  to  answer  that 
than  I." 

"I  am  not  interested  in  abstruse  problems  just  now. 
I  am  here  simply  to  find  David." 

"Difficult,  perhaps.  I  couldn't  find  him  before.  But 
at  least  I  have  given  you  the  clew." 

"Your  clew  doesn't  explain.  I  don't  know  what  to  do 
with  it." 

"A  restatement  of  my  theory  may  clear  things  up. 
Through  a  combination  of  certain  circumstances,  exerting 


136  THE  GILDED  MAN 

upon  him  a  peculiar  influence,  David  is  living  again  in 
an  environment  and  through  a  set  of  experiences  that 
belong  to  him  only  when  he  is  in  what  we  call  a  condi- 
tion of  secondary  personality.  Discover  that  environment 
— the  same,  I  believe,  as  the  one  in  which  he  was  lost 
three  years  ago — and  you  will  discover  David." 

Leighton  made  no  comment.  He  regarded  Raoul  with 
characteristic  immobility.  One  gathered  from  his  silence, 
however,  that  he  was  impressed  with  what  he  had  just 
heard.  Slowly  pacing  the  length  of  the  sala,  he  stopped 
before  General  Herran,  who,  through  his  ignorance  of 
English,  was  in  a  quite  helpless  state  of  bewilderment 
at  the  turn  the  interview  between  the  two  men  had 
taken. 

"This  young  man  will  help  us  find  Meudon,"  said 
Leighton  in  his  broken  Spanish. 

"He  knows  where  he  is?"  asked  Herran  eagerly. 

"He  knows — something,"  replied  the  savant  with  sig- 
nificant emphasis.  "For  one  thing.  General,  those  pistol 
shots  you  had  with  Meudon  seem  to  have  played  the 
devil." 

"Caramba!  Does  he  say  so?  But  that  is  foolish- 
ness 1" 

"No,  it  is  theory,"  said  Leighton  drily. 

"How  will  he  prove  it?" 

"By  finding  Meudon." 

There  was  a  finality  in  the  tone  of  Leighton's  rejoin- 
der which,  more  than  the  words  themselves,  indicated  the 
seeker's  conviction  that  the  road  to  David's  discovery 
was  in  plain  view.  Raoul  Arthur,  however,  said  nothing. 
Standing  aloof  from  his  two  visitors,  apparently  not  heed- 
ing them,  his  silence  aroused  Leighton's  curiosity. 


AN  OLD  MYSTERY  137 

"Naturally,  I  depend  on  you,  Arthur,"  said  the  old 
man,  with  an  emphasis  that  sounded  like  a  threat. 

"I  don't  know  why,"  he  demurred.  "David  was  with 
your  party  when  this  happened.  I  failed  to  find  him 
three  years  ago,  you  know." 

"There  is  no  proof  that  you  did  anything  then  to 
rescue  the  man  who  was  your  friend  and  business  part- 
ner," rfetorted  Leighton.  "This  time  failure  might  be 
fatal — for  you." 

The  words  and  Leighton's  manner  had  their  effect. 
Shaking  off  his  real,  or  assumed,  apathy,  Raoul  faced  his 
accuser  angrily. 

"I  have  given  you  the  one  clew  of  which  I  have  any 
knowledge,"  he  said,  meeting  Leighton  for  the  first  time 
eye  to  eye.  "I  have  done  what  I  could,  I  will  still  do 
what  I  can.  But  I  won't  act  at  the  dictation  of  a  man 
of  whom  I  know  nothing,  whom  I  never  even  met  until 
this  moment." 

"That's  all  very  well,"  replied  the  other  impertur- 
bably.  "But,  as  I  said,  I  depend  on  you — quite  nat- 
urally, it  seems  to  me — to  help  in  the  recovery  of  your 
friend.  My  niece  and  I  are  in  this  country  for  the 
express  purpose  of  solving  David's  former  disappear- 
ance." 

"Your  niece?" 

"Yes;  the  woman  whom  David  expects  to  marry." 

Raoul 's  defiant  attitude  vanished  before  this  announce- 
ment. Irritation  gave  place  to  amazement,  distrust 
turned  to  friendliness.  Nor  did  he  attempt  to  conceal 
his  appetite  for  further  news  of  David's  personal  affairs. 

"David  wrote  me  nothing  of  this,"  he  said.     "From 


138  THE  GILDED  MAN 

his  letter  I  learned  that  he  was  coming  with  friends.  He 
did  not  tell  me  who  these  friends  were." 

"Well,  there's  every  reason  why  I  should  be  frank 
with  you — as  I  expect  you  to  be  frank  with  me." 

"You  are  still  suspicious.  What  can  I  do,  or  say?  I 
tell  you,  I  don't  know  where  David  is." 

"Do  you  know  where  he  was  when  he  disappeared 
from  Bogota  three  years  ago?" 

"No." 

"Strange!  A  man  with  all  your  interests  at  stake  in 
this  puzzle — surely  you  must  have  reached  some  con- 
clusion?" 

"I  tell  you,  I  have  not,"  he  replied  sharply.  "I  know 
nothing,  absolutely  nothing." 

"You  admit  you  have  a  theory — let's  call  it  that — a 
theory  that  fits  the  facts  so  far  as  you  know  them?" 

"That's  your  deduction,"  sneered  the  other. 

"But,  I'm  right?" 

"Possibly,"  Raoul  answered,  turning  again  to  the 
papers  that  littered  his  writing  table. 

"That's  all  I  want,"  declared  Leighton  with  satisfac- 
tion.   "Now,  we  will  plan  our  campaign." 

Raoul,  engrossed  in  a  large,  musty  document  which 
he  had  spread  before  him,  greeted  the  proposal  with  a 
shrug  of  his  shoulders.  General  Herran,  impatient  at 
the  apparently  futile  and — to  him — incomprehensible  dis- 
cussion, consumed  innumerable  cigarettes,  while  Leigh- 
ton,  with  the  air  of  one  for  whom  waiting  is  an  enjoy- 
ment, settled  himself  comfortably  in  a  capacious  rocking- 
chair. 

The  ensuing  silence  was  rudely  broken.  There  was  a 
vigorous  pounding  upon   the  outer  door,   followed  by 


AN  OLD  MYSTERY  139 

the  abrupt  and  noisy  entrance  into  the  house  of  some 
one  from  the  street.  Whoever  it  was,  this  late  visitor 
stood  little  upon  ceremony.  But  Leighton  and  General 
Herran  had  no  difficulty  in  recognizing  the  nervous 
shuffle  of  feet  along  the  stone  corridor,  the  thump  of  the 
heavy  walking-stick,  accompanied  by  grunts  of  dissat- 
isfaction and  suppressed  wrath.  When  Doctor  Miranda 
finally  bolted  into  the  room,  fanning  himself  as  usual — 
although  fans  were  a  decidedly  uncomfortable  super- 
^^fiuity  in  the  chilly  night  air  of  Bogota — they  were,  in  a 
way,  prepared  for  him, 

"He  is  gone!  He  is  lost — that  leetle  fellow!  There 
is  one  more  lost  of  them!"  he  shouted,  repeating  his 
disjointed  English  in  staccato  Spanish,  as  soon  as  he 
caught  sight  of  his  two  friends. 

Leighton  and  Herran  exchanged  amazed  glances  at  this 
enigmatic  bit  of  intelligence,  while  Raoul,  preoccupied 
and  restless  though  he  was,  could  not  restrain  a  grin  at 
the  unconventional  being  who  had  rolled  his  way,  unan- 
nounced, into  his  house, 

"What  do  you  mean?"  demanded  Leighton. 

"I  tell  you,  he  is  lost,  that  leetle  schoolmaster!" 
Miranda  exploded. 

"Andrew  Parmelee  lost?    Impossible!" 

"You  are  an  estupido,"  retorted  the  Doctor  angrily. 
"I  say  he  is  lost.  Before  my  eyes  he  disappear.  I  never 
lie,  I  never  mistake." 

Not  caring  to  discuss  this  announcement,  Leighton 
tried  to  divert  the  torrent  of  words  into  something  like 
a  coherent  statement.  But  in  his  present  excitable  mood 
Doctor  Miranda  floundered  hopelessly  in  a  morass  of 
verbal  difficulties  and  ended  by  telling  his  story  in  alter- 


I40  THE  GILDED  MAN 

nate  layers  of  Spanish  and  English.  From  his  account, 
however,  his  hearers  were  able  to  put  together  the  main 
points  of  an  occurrence  that,  vehemently  vouched  for 
though  it  was  by  the  narrator,  strained  their  credulity 
to  the  limit. 

Early  that  morning,  it  appeared.  Doctor  Miranda, 
accompanied  by  the  reluctant  Andrew,  had  left  Bogota 
for  a  visit  to  Lake  Guatavita.  The  report  that  David's 
disappearance  three  years  before  had  taken  place  there 
was  given  as  the  reason  for  the  trip.  Arrived  at  the 
lake,  Andrew  had  declined  to  accompany  the  Doctor  in 
his  search  among  the  cliffs  that  guarded  the  mysterious 
body  of  water,  and  had  stationed  himself  near  the  cut- 
ting made  centuries  before  by  the  Spaniards.  This  was 
a  comparatively  well  sheltered  spot  and  sufficiently  re- 
moved from  the  precipitous  shore  which  the  cautious 
schoolmaster  was  anxious  to  avoid.  His  investigations 
concluded  after  the  lapse  of  something  like  two  hours, 
Miranda  returned  to  the  old  Spanish  cutting,  expecting 
to  rejoin  Andrew.  But  Andrew  was  not  there.  Surprised 
at  not  finding  him,  the  doctor  at  first  supposed  that  the 
schoolmaster  had  grown  tired  of  waiting  and  had  jour- 
neyed back  to  Bogota  alone.  A  single  circumstance 
proved  that  in  this  he  was  wrong.  There  stood  Andrew's 
horse  where  he  had  originally  left  him — and  it  seemed 
altogether  unlikely  that  his  rider  had  deliberately  set  out 
to  cover  the  long  and  arduous  miles  to  Bogota  afoot. 

"Another  puzzle  in  psychology,  I  suppose,"  com- 
mented Leigh  ton,  with  a  sarcastic  glance  at  Raoul 
Arthur, 

The  latter,  however,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  Andrew 
was  an  utter  stranger  to  him,  appeared    to    be  more 


AN  OLD  MYSTERY  141 

amazed  than  the  others  by  Miranda's  story,  and  for  the 
moment  paid  no  heed  to  Leighton. 

"When  you  found  his  horse  you  made  a  thorough 
search  for  your  friend,  of  course,  Senor?"  he  asked 
Miranda  eagerly, 

"Caramba!  leetle  fellow,  what  you  think?"  was  the 
impatient  reply.  "I  look,  and  I  look,  and  I  call — fifty 
times  I  call.  If  I  can  swim  I  jump  into  the  lake  to 
find  him  there.  But  I  am  too  fat.  So,  I  call  more  times, 
,and  I  throw  stones,  and  make  the  trumpet  with  the 
hands.  It  is  no  use.  That  leetle  fellow  say  nothing. 
He  is  not  there.    So,  I  come  away  after  long  time." 

"He  is  drowned,  poor  fellow,"  murmured  Herran  in 
Spanish. 

"It  is  not  possible,"  declared  Miranda,  turning  angrily 
upon  the  general.  "What  make  him  drown?  Of  the 
water  he  is  afraid.  If  he  fall  in — by  mistake — ^he  make 
a  noise,  he  call  to  me.  I  am  close  by,  I  hear — I  go  to 
him  quickly.     But  I  hear  nothing." 

"Well,  if  he  didn't  drown,  as  our  friend  argues,  what 
did  become  of  him?"  demanded  Leighton. 

"Ah,  Senor,"  replied  Miranda,  his  mobile  features  ex- 
pressing hopeless  bewilderment,  "I  do  not  know.  It  is 
just  so  as  I  tell  you;  he  disappear,  he  vanish,  he  is  gone. 
If  I  know  where,  I  find  him — I  would  not  be  here." 

"So,  there  are  two  disappearances  to  account  for," 
summed  up  Leighton.  "Foreigners  visiting  Bogota  seem 
to  have  the  trick  of  vanishing.  What  do  you  make  of  it, 
Mr.  Arthur?" 

"I  am  as  much  at  a  loss  as  you." 

"Hardly  that,  I  should  think.  You,  at  least,  know  all 
about  this  mysterious  lake.    You  know  what  happened 


142  THE  GILDED  MAN 

there  three  years  ago,  for  instance.  And  then  you 
know " 

"You  credit  me  with  a  great  deal  more  knowledge  than 
I  can  lay  claim  to,"  interrupted  Raoul.  "I  never  heard 
of  this  man  who  has  been  lost,  as  your  excitable  friend 
tells  us,  in  such  a  singular  manner — this  Mr.  An- 
drew  " 

"Parmelee,"  supplied  the  other.  "Andrew  Parmelee, 
schoolmaster,  of  Rysdale,  Connecticut.  He  is  a  very 
excellent  person  who,  through  his  devotion  to  my  niece 
and  myself,  has  fallen,  I  fear,  a  victim  to  some  strange 
plot.  You  will  join  us,  I  have  no  doubt,  in  his  rescue. 
I  am  ignorant  of  the  psychology  of  Guatavita.  How- 
ever, as  I  have  already  told  you,  I  am  here  to  add  to 
my  stock  of  psychological  knowledge,  and  I  fancy  there 
are  few  who  could  teach  me  more,  in  cases  of  this  kind, 
than  you." 

The  sarcasm  was  not  lost  on  Miranda,  who  shrugged 
his  shoulders,  muttered  some  unintelligible  Spanish  im- 
precation and  exchanged  a  comprehending  glance  with 
General  Herran.  Raoul  Arthur,  on  the  other  hand, 
ignored  the  tone  Leighton  had  adopted  in  addressing  him. 
In  his  reply  he  dropped  the  irritation  and  suspicion  with 
which  he  had  first  regarded  the  old  savant,  and  there  was 
even  cordiality  in  the  manner  and  look  accompanying 
his  somewhat  ceremonious  acceptance  of  the  task  imposed 
upon  him. 

"If  I  thought  it  possible  of  so  profound  a  scholar.  Pro- 
fessor Leighton,"  he  laughed,  "I  would  say  you  were 
chaffing  me.  As  it  is,  I  feel  the  honor  in  your  proposal 
that  I  should  join  you  in  solving  these  mysterious  dis- 


AN  OLD  MYSTERY  143 

appearances.  Perhaps  I  can  be  of  some  help.  At  any 
rate,  depend  on  me  for  whatever  I  can  do." 

"Two  Americans  unaccountably  disappear  in  the  heart 
of  Colombia,"  mused  Leighton.  ''If  it  were  not  for 
certain  odd  circumstances,  I  should  say  the  country's 
indignation  over  the  loss  of  Panama  had  something  to 
da  with  it." 

Against  this  suggestion  Miranda  impatiently  pro- 
tested. 

"Impossible!"  he  shouted.  "Always  these  people  fight 
with  the  gun,  the  machete,  if  they  are  angry.  They 
make  much  noise  and  talk;  never  they  steal  the  enemies 
of  their  country  and  say  nothing.  It  is  one  plot — and 
perhaps  this  senor  will  know,"  he  concluded,  darting  an 
accusing  glance  at  Roaul. 

But  Raoul,  now  thoroughly  composed,  smiled  disdain- 
fully, although  agreeing  in  Doctor  Miranda's  rejection 
of  Leighton's  half-formed  theory. 

"If  it  is  necessary,"  he  assured  them,  "I  can  easily 
prove  that  I  have  had  nothing  to  do  with  all  this.  I  have 
not  been  out  of  Bogota  for  a  month  or  more.  Besides, 
I  have  the  strongest  business  reasons  for  wanting  the 
safe  return  of  David  Meudon  to  this  country.  As  for 
Mr.  Parmelee;  I  repeat — I  never  heard  of  him  before. 
But,  I  agree  with  our  friend  here;  the  disappearance  of 
these  two  men  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  Panama 
trouble.  It  is  something  else.  There  is  a  mystery  about 
it.    I  have  no  doubt  it  can  be  solved." 

"You  have  the  clew?"  demanded  Leighton. 

"I  didn't  say  that." 

"WeU?" 


144  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"Perhaps  I  know  some  one  here — a  woman — who 
could  help  us." 

But  that  evening,  after  the  departure  of  his  visitors, 
Raoul  Arthur  found  the  little  house  in  the  Calle  de  las 
Flores  tenantless,  and  learned  that  the  woman,  known 
to  the  neighborhood  as  La  Reina  de  los  Indios,  had  left 
Bogota,  with  all  her  household  effects,  a  week  before. 


XI 


IN  WHICH  ANDREW  IS   FOUND 

PUZZLED  at  not  finding  Sajipona,  uncertain  how  to 
take  up  the  promise  he  had  given  in  regard  to  her, 
an  altogether  unexpected  turn  of  events  awaited  Raoul 
at  Leighton's  hotel  the  next  morning.  Andrew  Parmelee 
had  been  found.  In  the  custody  of  two  delighted  police 
officers  the  missing  schoolmaster,  bewildered,  quite 
speechless  from  his  nocturnal  experience,  had  made  his 
appearance,  scarcely  an  hour  before  Raoul's  arrival. 
When,  thanks  to  Miranda's  persistent  prodding,  backed 
by  the  calm  questioning  of  Leighton  and  Una's  sympa- 
thetic ministrations,  he  found  his  tongue,  the  account 
Andrew  gave  of  his  adventure  was  so  wildly  improbable 
that  his  friends  were  inclined  to  believe  he  had  been  the 
victim  of  some  temporary  mental  delusion.  But  this  did 
not  answer  the  threefold  question:  what  had  brought  on 
his  delusion,  how  had  he  escaped  the  vigilant  Miranda, 
and  how  had  he  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  police. 

The  two  officers  gave  a  simple  statement  of  what,  so 
far  as  they  knew,  had  happened. 

Late  the  night  before,  they  said,  Andrew  had  wan- 
dered into  the  alcalde's  office  in  a  little  pueblo  a  few 
miles  this  side  of  Guatavita.  His  appearance,  manner 
and  mental  condition — they  hinted  broadly  enough  that 

145 


146  THE  GILDED  MAN 

the  luckless  Andrew,  when  first  found  was  in  a  very  irre- 
sponsible condition  indeed — called  for  the  protection  of 
the  law.  But  as  the  poor  gentleman,  they  said,  was  ap- 
parently suffering  from  nothing  more  than  the  effects  of 
a  too  convivial  outing  in  the  country,  he  had  been  put  in 
jail,  not  as  a  punishment,  but  rather  as  an  act  of 
humanity.  Unable  to  express  himself  in  Spanish,  Andrew 
had  evidently  been  something  of  a  puzzle  to  the  simple- 
minded  officials  of  the  pueblo.  Out  of  his  incoherent 
jumble  of  words,  however,  the  name  of  a  hotel  in  Bogota 
had  been  seized  upon.  A  telephone  message  was  sent 
to  the  municipal  police,  and  the  two  officers  who  now 
had  him  in  charge  were  detailed  to  conduct  him  in  safety 
to  his  friends.  Beyond  this,  the  clearing  up  of  the  mys- 
tery of  his  temporary  disappearance — if  mystery  it  was 
— rested  with  Andrew  himself.  But  he,  for  a  time,  was 
unable  to  satisfy  the  curiosity  of  his  questioners. 

''I  don't  understand  it  myself,"  he  said  hopelessly, 
addressing  himself,  in  the  main,  to  Leighton,  whose  calm 
demeanor  was  less  confusing  than  the  badgering  of  the 
excitable  Doctor.  "All  I  know  is,  that  when  Doctor 
Miranda  went  off  to  make  some  explorations  on  his  own 
account,  I  felt  a  little  nervous  at  finding  myself  alone 
in  such  a  dismal  place.  Not  frightened,  you  know,  but 
just  nervous." 

"Why  you  not  call  to  me?"  demanded  Miranda. 

"There  was  really  no 'reason  to  call  for  help,  you  see, 
as  nothing  had  happened.  So,  just  to  pass  the  time 
until  Doctor  Miranda  came  back,  I  walked  along  the  edge 
of  the  lake,  feeling  very  miserable,  I  confess,  wondering 
what  had  become  of  Mr.  Meudon,  and  wishing  that  we 
were  all  out  of  this  terrible  country  and  back  in  Rys- 


IN  WHICH  ANDREW  IS  FOUND  147 

dale.  At  first,  there  was  nothing  to  alarm  me  particu- 
larly; but  the  more  I  thought  about  the  disappearance 
of  Mr.  Meudon  the  more  nervous  I  became.  And  then, 
just  as  I  was  wondering  if  we  would  ever  find  him,  and 
feeling  more  uneasy  at  the  strange  silence  of  that  melan- 
choly lake " 

"Caramba!  You  would  have  the  lake  to  talk?" 

"I — I  heard  footsteps  among  the  rocks  behind  me." 

"A  sightseer  from  Bogota,  I  suppose,"  suggested 
Leighton. 

"No,  it  was  not  exactly  that — at  least,  I  don't  think 
so.  But  at  first  I  really  didn't  turn  around  to  see.  I 
just  kept  on  looking  at  the  lake  and  going  over  some 
of  the  terrible  stories  I  had  heard  about  it." 

"You  see,  this  leetle  fellow  was  quite  mad  with  the 
fright,"  interjected  Miranda.  "He  dream.  He  hear,  he 
see  nothing.    Nobody  was  there.    I  know." 

"I  think.  Sir,  you  are  mistaken,"  protested  the  school- 
master. "I  admit  I  was  nervous.  But  I  was  perfectly 
sane— and  I  was  not  asleep." 

"Of  course  you  were  not  asleep,  Mr,  Parmelee,"  said 
Una  soothingly.  "As  for  being  nervous — any  one  would 
have  been  nervous." 

"Well?"  inquired  Leighton  impatiently. 

"Well,  Sir,  as  I  was  saying,  I  heard  footsteps.  They 
approached  me.  I  made  up  my  mind  I  had  better  see 
who  it  was.  I  turned  around.  And  then  I  saw,  a  few 
yards  from  me,  a  stranger.  How  he  came  there  without 
my  having  seen  him  before,  I  can't  imagine.  And  then, 
thinking  about  this,  I  confess  I  became  quite  agitated." 

"But  what  was  he  like,  what  did  he  say?"  demanded 
Leighton.    "It  was  a  man,  I  suppose?" 


148  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"Oh,  yes,  I  am  quite  sure  he  was  a  man — a  very  tall 
man,  and  singularly  dressed." 

"  'Singularly  dressed?' " 

"I  thought  so,  at  least.  But  then,  I  am  not  familiar 
with  the  fashions  of  this  country.  You  see,  it  is  very 
cold  on  the  shores  of  the  lake,  and  I  should  think  that 
any  one  going  there  would  want  at  least  to  be  warmly 
clad.  But  this  man  had  nothing  on  that  I  could  see, 
except  a  long  sort  of  toga,  just  like  the  pictures  I  have 
studied  in  Herodotus.  It  was  looped  up  on  one  shoulder 
through  what  looked  like  a  golden  ring " 

"He  dream!  He  dream  1  this  leetle  fellow!"  laughed 
Miranda.    "He  is  too  good." 

"And  this  toga  fell  down  to  a  point  just  below  his 
knees.  It  was  a  purple  and  white  toga — or  perhaps  I 
ought  to  call  it  a  tunic — ^with  a  fringe  of  gold  tassels.  He 
had  sandals  on  his  bare  feet  and  wore  no  trousers — at 
least,  I  could  see  none." 

"Caramba!" 

"Really,  Mr.  Parmelee,  you  describe  a  very  singular 
sort  of  person  for  this  age  and  climate,"  said  Leighton 
coldly.  "Are  you  sure  that  your  agitated  state  of  mind 
— you  admit  you  were  agitated — did  not  create  a  purely 
imaginary  apparition?" 

"Did  I  not  say  he  dream?"  demanded  Miranda  tri- 
umphantly. "And  the  police  say  he  drink.  But  that 
is  not  so — ^he  never  drink.    I  know.    I  am  there." 

"I  am  very  sorry.  Sir;  I  know  it  sounds  ridiculous," 
protested  the  distressed  Andrew.  "But  I  am  certain 
that  I  was  not  asleep — or  anything  else  that  these  well- 
meaning  gentlemen  say.  I  am  only  telling  you  what  I 
really  saw." 


IN  WHICH  ANDREW  IS  FOUND  149 

"Well,  tell  us  the  whole  story.  Setting  aside  this  per- 
son's remarkable  costume,  what  was  he  like,  what  did  he 
say?" 

"I  don't  think  he  said  anything.  He  was  an  Indian. 
That  is,  he  was  not  a  white  man.  I  never  saw  any  one 
just  like  him,  so  I  may  not  be  right  about  the  race  to 
which  he  belongs." 

Andrew's  confused  statement  brought  protests  from 
Leighton  as  well  as  Miranda. 

"In  this  country,"  remarked  Leighton  dogmatically, 
"a  man  is  either  an  Indian,  a  white,  or  a  half-breed. 
There  are  no  negroes  up  here,  you  know.  The  negroes 
all  stayed  on  the  coast.  As  for  your  inability  to  tell  us 
whether  he  spoke  or  not — well,  the  whole  thing  begins 
to  sound  absurd." 

But  the  rebuke  failed  to  bring  out  anything  more  clear 
in  the  way  of  explanation  from  Andrew. 

"Pray,  Sir,  remember,"  he  expostulated,  "that  at  the 
time  of  this  stranger's  appearance  evening  was  setting 
in.  The  growing  darkness  prevented  anything  like  a 
reliable  estimate  that  I  could  have  made  of  his  features. 
In  the  twilight  he  seemed  dark  to  me,  although  not  so 
dark  as  the  average  Indian.  And  yet,  allowing  for  the 
twilight,  he  certainly  was  not  a  white  man." 

"But  what  happened?"  urged  Leighton. 

"He  appeared  surprised  at  seeing  me.  And  then  he 
smiled,  approached  to  where  I  was  standing,  and  waved 
a  sort  of  salutation  to  me.  I  think  he  may  have  mut- 
tered some  words,  either  of  invitation  or  friendly  greet- 
ing.    But  if  he  did,  it  was  not  in  English,  nor  in  Spanish." 

"He,  at  least,  was  not  agitated,  it  seems!     But  as  you 


ISO  THE  GILDED  MAN 

were  afflicted  with  more  than  the  usual  amount  of  timid- 
ity, I  suppose  you  avoided  him." 

''I  assure  you,  Sir,  that  as  soon  as  I  saw  this  person,  I 
felt  no  further  fear.  There  was  nothing  threatening  in 
his  manner.  And  it  flashed  through  my  mind  that  he 
could  give  me  some  information  about  Mr.  Meudon.  I 
observed  that  he  beckoned  me  to  him — and  as  he  did  so 
I  followed." 

"Well?" 

"That  was  the  singular  part  of  it.  There  was  every 
reason  why  I  should  not  go  with  him — at  least,  not  with- 
out first  notifying  Doctor  Miranda.  But  this  strange 
being  smiled  so  pleasantly  and  seemed  so  friendly  that 
my  feeling  of  nervousness  passed  away,  and  I  was  eager 
to  go  with  him.  This  I  did.  Apparently  he  retraced 
his  steps,  leading  me  along  the  shore  of  a  little  inlet  to 
the  lake  until  we  reached  a  high  wall  of  rock  that  I  had 
not  particularly  noticed  before.  Here  he  stopped  and 
looked  at  me,  still  smiling,  as  if  to  make  sure  that  I  was 
following  him." 

"Do  you  think  you  could  identify  this  wall  of  rock  if 
you  were  to  see  it  again?"  asked  Raoul  Arthur,  speaking 
for  the  first  time. 

"I  am  sure  I  could,"  said  Andrew,  "because  we  stood 
in  front  of  it  for  some  time,  this  strange  person  in  the 
toga  passing  his  hand  over  its  surface,  while  I  wondered 
what  he  was  going  to  do  next.  I  noticed  that  it  was  a 
very  high  and  blank  wall  indeed." 

"Where  was  it?" 

"Just  next  to  the  cutting  that  Doctor  Miranda  had  told 
me  was  made  by  the  Spaniards  to  drain  the  lake." 


IN  WHICH  ANDREW  IS  FOUND  151 

"I  did  not  see  this  wall,"  expostulated  Miranda.  "You 
are  in  one  dream." 

"Never  mind,"  snapped  Leighton;  "go  on  with  your 
story." 

"I  am  afraid  you  will  believe  me  less  than  ever,"  said 
Andrew  deprecatingly.  "But  I  am  only  telling  what  I 
am  certain  I  saw." 

"Go  on." 

"As  he  passed  his  hand  over  the  surface  of  the  wall  he 
gradually  turned  to  one  side  until  we  stood  before  a  nar- 
row cleft  in  the  rocks." 

"It  is  not  there,"  interrupted  Miranda  contemptu- 
ously. "I  examine  all  this  rock.  It  has  no — what  you 
call?— cleft." 

"I  am  very  sorry,  Sir,  but  I  know  that  there  is  such  a 
cleft.  I  think  that  is  what  you  would  call  it.  You 
might  easily  have  overlooked  it,  Sir.  It  was  only  a  nar- 
row opening  in  the  rock,  facing  away  from  the  lake  and 
reaching  up  not  more  than  about  three  feet  from  the 
ground." 

"I  remember  it,"  declared  Raoul. 

"Pray  go  on  with  your  story,  Mr.  Parmelee,"  Leighton 
commanded. 

"There  is  not  much  more  to  tell,  although  the  little 
that  remains  is  quite  the  most  extraordinary  part  of  it. 
Pausing  an  instant  before  this  opening  in  the  rock,  my 
strange  guide  crouched  down  until  he  was  able  to  pass 
within  it,  beckoned  me  to  follow  him,  and  then  disap- 
peared." 

The  schoolmaster  spoke  with  difficulty,  hesitating  every 
now  and  then  for  the  word  that  would  best  express  what 
had  happened.    Having  plunged  into  his  story,  however, 


1 52  THE  GILDED  MAN 

he  went  bravely  on,  gaining  courage  as  he  recalled  hid 
singular  experiences,  and  impressing  those  who  heard  him 
with  the  sincerity,  if  not  the  truth,  of  the  narrative.  Of 
all  his  auditors  Raoul,  apparently,  followed  him  with  the 
closest  attention.  His  attitude,  indeed,  seemed  to  indi- 
cate a  belief,  on  his  part,  in  Andrew's  statements. 

"I  hesitated  about  following  this  unknown  man  into 
so  strange  a  place,"  continued  Andrew;  "but  his  manner 
was  so  perfectly  courteous  and  friendly — and  then  I 
thought  that  behind  all  this  mystery  there  might  be 
something  to  help  us  find  Mr.  Meudon — that  I  made 
up  my  mind  to  keep  with  him  as  long  as  possible.  I 
crouched  down,  therefore,  as  I  had  seen  him  do,  forced 
my  way  through  the  narrow  opening  in  the  rock,  and 
presently,  after  a  little  difficulty,  found  myself  in  a  dark 
passage  that  afforded  me  room  to  stand  upright  and 
move  forward.  I  could  dimly  perceive  my  guide  walking 
at  some  distance  in  front  of  me,  and  I  hastened  as  well 
as  I  could  to  reach  him.  In  this  I  did  not  succeed,  and 
so  we  followed  the  passage,  he  leading  and  I  after  him, 
for  a  hundred  yards  or  more,  until  we  came  to  an  abrupt 
angle  in  the  wall  where  the  uneven  path  made  a  sharp 
dip  downward.  Here  I  stopped,  having  completely  lost 
sight  of  my  guide,  and  after  waiting  a  short  time  I  called 
to  him.  No  answer  came  that  I  could  hear,  and  in  the 
darkness  that  surrounded  me  I  began  to  grow  confused 
and  alarmed.  It  seemed  to  me  I  had  been  lured  into 
some  sort  of  trap.  Repenting  of  my  folly  for  having 
ventured  so  far  into  such  a  dismal  hole,  I  determined 
to  get  out  of  it  as  quickly  as  possible.  This,  I  thought, 
would  be  easily  done  because,  to  the  best  of  my  knowl- 
edge, I  had  followed  along  a  straight  corridor  and,  if  I 


IN  WHICH  ANDREW  IS  FOUND  153 

turned  back,  I  would  soon  come  within  sight  of  the  open- 
ing that  led  to  the  lake.  But  either  I  had  miscalculated 
the  distance  I  had  walked,  or  else,  in  turning  to  go  out 
I  started  in  the  wrong  direction.  At  any  rate,  I  had 
not  gone  very  far  before  I  found  myself  in  a  labyrinth 
of  passages.  I  perceived  this  by  feeling  along  the  wall. 
And  so — there  I  was,  without  any  clew  to  help  me  in 
choosing  the  right  passage. 

"I  scarcely  know  what  I  did  when  I  realized  that  I 
was  hopelessly  lost  in  this  pitch  black  cavern.  For  one 
thing,  I  shouted  for  help,  thinking  that  possibly  Doctor 
Miranda  might  hear  me.  But  the  echoes  from  my  voice 
were  more  terrifying  than  the  silence.  The  air  was 
stifling;  the  ground  appeared  to  move  beneath  my  feet; 
the  darkness  was  like  a  heavy  veil  winding  closer  and 
closer  about  me.  Then,  unable,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  to 
move  or  breathe  any  longer,  everything  went  from  me. 
I  sank  to  the  floor  unconscious.  And  that's  all  I  remem- 
ber." 

"But — how  you  say  that?  You  are  here,  leetle  felr 
low,"  blurted  Miranda.    "You  are  all  right." 

"Yes,  I  am  here,"  Andrew  assented  woefully.  "But 
I  don't  know  how  I  got  here.  When  I  came  to  myself 
again  I  was  lying  on  the  shore  of  the  lake.  It  was  quite 
dark.    My  horse  had  gone " 

"That  is  right;  I  take  him,"  corroborated  Miranda, 
with  satisfaction. 

"I  don't  know  how  I  succeeded  in  doing  it — I  suppose 
it  was  instinct — but  I  managed  to  follow  the  trail  on  foot, 
and  after  a  desperate  struggle  I  reached  the  village  where 
the  people  helped  me  to  get  back  to  Bogota." 

Andrew's  story  was  variously  received.    No  one  could 


154  THE  GILDED  MAN 

doubt  his  honesty.  With  such  transparent  simplicity  as 
his,  it  would  be  difficult  to  suppose  him  capable  of  draw- 
ing— consciously  at  least — upon  his  fancy.  Doctor 
Miranda  suggested  that  he  merely  dreamed  what  he 
afterwards  took  to  be  reality.  But  the  others,  discredit- 
ing this  theory,  were  apparently  inclined  to  accept  the 
story,  so  far  as  it  went,  in  spite  of  its  fantastic  and  well 
nigh  incredible  features.  Raoul  Arthur  appeared  par- 
ticularly impressed  and  proposed  immediate  action. 

"I  know  the  cleft  in  the  rock,"  he  said.  *'I  have  been 
over  a  small  part  of  the  passage  to  which  it  gives  en- 
trance. It  was  there,  three  years  ago,  in  our  attempt  to 
undermine  Lake  Guatavita,  that  a  charge  of  dynamite  ex- 
ploded, after  which  David  Meudon  disappeared.  I  had 
no  idea  that  this  passage  extended  back  into  the  moun- 
tain as  far  as  it  does,  according  to  Mr.  Parmelee's  story. 
But  now — it  strikes  me,  Mr.  Leighton,  that  chance  has 
given  us  the  clew  you  were  seeking  last  night.  If  you 
are  still  anxious  to  trace  David's  whereabouts,  the  path 
lies  down  the  passage  entered  by  Mr.  Parmelee  and  his 
togaed,  sandaled  guide." 

"You  want  to  explore  it?"  demanded  Leighton. 

"I  do." 

"But  why,  if  it  was  already  known  to  you,  have  you 
not  done  this  before?" 

"The  natives  have  always  fought  shy  of  going  into 
it  further  than  our  mining  operations  made  necessary. 
Besides,  I  never  had  any  reason  to  suppose  that  it  was 
more  than  a  mere  natural  formation  of  rock — as  it  prob- 
ably is — extending  a  short  distance  into  the  main  body 
of  the  mountain." 

"And  now?" 


IN  WHICH  ANDREW  IS  FOUND  155 

"I  have  no  theory  to  advance.  But,"  he  added  sig- 
nificantly, "it  was  in  this  unexplored  tunnel  that  David 
disappeared  three  years  ago." 

The  reminder  had  its  effect.  This  linking  up  of  the 
mysterious  tunnel  that  had  so  nearly  proved  fatal  to 
Andrew,  with  David's  first  adventure  suggested  the  pos- 
sible solution  of  a  problem  that  had  baffled  them  until 
now.  In  spite  of  Miranda's  derisive  comments  on  the 
schoolmaster's  ''fairy  tale,"  there  seemed  to  be  only  one 
thing  to  do — explore  the  tunnel.  It  might  lead  no- 
where, and  in  that  case  the  labor  and  the  risk — if  risk 
there  was — would  be  of  small  account.  If,  however,  it 
was  the  entrance  to  a  subterranean  dwelling,  inhabited 
by  people  of  whom  the  strange  being  described  by  An- 
drew was  a  specimen,  the  discovery  was  well  worth 
making. 

"We  will  rescue  David  1"  exclaimed  Una,  the  eagerness 
of  hope  in  her  voice. 

"But,  my  young  lady,"  protested  Miranda;  "he  go 
away  many  mile  from  this  tunnel." 

"That  is  true,"  assented  Leighton. 

"All  the  same,  David  was  lost  there  before,"  Raoul 
reminded  him.    "It  is  a  clew  we  are  bound  to  follow." 

The  question  remained,  how  carry  out  the  proposed 
exploration?  Equipped  with  miners'  lamps,  a  number 
of  which,  of  the  best  pattern,  were  still  among  the  stores 
David  and  Raoul  had  brought  to  Colombia  at  the  begin- 
ning of  their  venture,  the  worst  difficulty — darkness — 
could  easily  be  overcome.  Firearms,  a  supply  of  pro- 
visions, and  oil  for  the  lamps,  were  other  items  obvious- 
ly needed.  But  the  essential  thing  was,  as  Doctor 
Miranda  tersely  put  it,  "brains" — a  cool-headed  leader 


iS6  THE  GILDED  MAN 

who  would  bring  them  back  to  the  entrance  of  the  tunnel 
in  case  of  danger.  General  Herran,  with  his  military 
training  and  experience,  was  the  man  for  this  role.  This 
hero  of  unfought  battles  was  thereupon  chosen  captain 
of  the  expedition — not,  however,  without  some  modest 
disclaimers  of  ability  on  his  part. 

"There  will  be  five  of  us  then,"  remarked  Leighton. 
"General  Herran,  Doctor  Miranda,  Arthur,  Parmelee  and 
myself." 

"There  will  be  six,"  amended  Una. 

"Six?" 

"I  will  be  one  of  the  party." 

"Preposterous!  You  might  as  well  make  it  seven,  and 
include  Mrs.  Quayle." 

"I  wouldn't  think  of  going,"  declared  that  lady  quiver- 
ing with  agitation. 

"It  is  not  for  the  womens,"  argued  Miranda,  in  his 
most  conciliatory  manner.  "There  may  be  troubles,  and 
we  want  only  the  mens." 

Una  turned  on  him  fiercely. 

"I  don't  believe  there  is  any  danger,"  she  cried;  "but, 
an5rway,  I  am  going.  I  am  certain  David  is  there.  I 
will  go!" 

To  all  of  which  Miranda  gave  an  untranslatable  ex- 
clamation denoting  sympathy,  admiration  for  the  pluck 
of  this  unexpected  volunteer.  Leighton,  however,  was 
less  easily  moved,  and  it  was  not  until  his  niece  assured 
him  that  she  would  return  if  the  expedition  promised  to 
be  a  dangerous  one,  that  he  consented  to  her  passionate 
plea. 


xn 

A  DEAD  WALL 

MRS.  QUAYLE  objected  to  being  parted  from  Una. 
She  objected  vigorously — vigorously,  at  least,  as 
compared  to  her  usual  manner  of  taking  things.  She 
complained  that  guarding  the  baggage  in  a  strange 
country,  where  it  was  impossible  to  make  even  her  sim- 
plest wants  intelligible,  was  not  the  sort  of  thing  she  was 
there  for.  But  she  could  not  turn  Una  from  her  pur- 
pose; nor  was  it  any  easier,  once  his  consent  was  given, 
to  move  Leighton  to  a  reconsideration  of  the  matter. 
Only  one  thing  was  left  for  her  to  do.  If  she  wished  to 
keep  within  reach  of  Una  she  would  have  to  accompany 
her  on  the  expedition — "the  picnic,"  as  Leighton  grimly 
called  it.  She  hated  to  do  this,  but,  as  solicitude  for 
Una  was  stronger  than  concern  for  her  own  safety,  she 
had  ended  by  tremblingly  begging  to  be  of  the  party. 

"Let  her  come,"  said  Miranda  derisively.  "It  will  not 
be  for  long  time." 

So  Mrs.  Quayle,  much  as  she  hated  adventures,  got 
what  she  wanted. 

Early  next  morning,  mounted  on  mules  and  carrying 
their  supply  of  provisions  neatly  packed  in  hampers, 
they  reached  Lake  Guatavita.  Judging  by  appearances, 
one  would  say  that  they  were  after  nothing  more  serious 

157 


1S8  THE  GILDED  MAN 

than  a  day's  outing.  The  air  was  crisp  and  sparkling,  of 
that  crystal  clearness  peculiar  to  Andean  altitudes.  The 
lake  laughed  in  the  sunlight;  whatever  there  was  of 
gloomy  legend  connected  with  it  slumbered  beneath  its 
silvery  surface.  Even  the  timorous  felt  the  joy  of  the 
place  and  indulged  in  hopes  of  high  adventure.  Miranda 
was  in  the  best  of  humor;  Leighton,  although  maintaining 
his  reserve,  relaxed  something  of  his  usual  severity; 
while  the  rest  of  the  party  was  in  high  spirits,  showing 
scarcely  anything  of  the  mental  and  physical  strain  to 
which  they  had  been  subjected  during  the  last  twenty- 
four  hours.  Only  Una  appeared  anxious.  Raoul  Arthur, 
the  more  she  saw  of  him,  disquieted  her.  She  disliked 
him  intensely,  she  could  not  tell  exactly  why.  H^  was 
assiduous  in  his  regard  for  her  comfort,  but,  in  spite  of 
his  outward  friendliness,  she  was  haunted  by  certain 
hints  that  had  come  to  her  from  David,  hints  that  made 
of  Raoul,  in  some  inexplicable  way,  an  active  enemy  to 
the  man  she  loved.  She  was  suspicious  of  him.  His 
presence  on  the  expedition  that  had  David's  rescue  for 
its  purpose  made  her  twist  everything  he  did  into  some- 
thing treacherous,  of  danger  to  all  of  them.  Her  uncle, 
apparently,  did  not  share  her  feeling.  On  the  contrary, 
he  seemed  to  rely  more  and  more  on  Raoul  for  advice 
and  direction  in  carrying  out  the  project  upon  which  he 
was  engaged,  and  thus  there  grew  up  between  the  two 
men  a  confidence  that  Una,  had  she  tried,  would  have 
been  unable  to  shake. 

Andrew,  of  course,  still  smarting  from  the  experience 
of  two  days  before,  could  not  be  expected  to  make  so 
speedy  a  return  to  the  scene  of  his  adventure  without 
some  trepidation.     But  whatever  sensations  thrilled  his 


A  DEAD  WALL  159 

susceptible  heart,  he  put  on  a  brave  front  and  did  not 
flinch  from  the  part  he  was  expected  to  take  in  the  ex- 
pedition. There  was  that  dreadful  lake,  there  the  wall 
of  rock  he  had  described,  and  there  the  inconspicuous 
opening  to  the  tunnel  from  whose  hidden  dangers  he  had 
been  so  mysteriously  rescued — he  faced  it  all  and  braced 
himself  for  the  inevitable  explanations.  But  his  knowl- 
edge of  the  place  was  far  less  than  Raoul's. 

"It  was  through  this  opening  to  Mr.  Parmelee's  tunnel 
that  we  entered  upon  the  excavation  by  which  we  hoped 
to  drain  the  lake  three  years  ago,"  he  remarked. 

From  an  engineering  point  of  view  the  statement  was 
mystifying  because  the  opening  of  the  tunnel  was  almost 
on  a  level  with  the  surface  of  the  lake.  Thus,  it  was 
difficult  to  see  what  would  have  been  gained  had  the 
waters  of  the  latter  been  diverted  into  the  tunnel.  It 
was  explained,  however,  that  an  intersecting  tunnel  at  a 
very  much  lower  level  furnished  the  desired  outlet,  and 
the  miners  had  planned  to  connect  with  this.  As  Leigh- 
ton  and  the  rest  were  not  concerned  in  these  bygone  mat- 
ters, the  abortive  attempts  of  the  mining  company  to  use 
this  subterranean  passage  in  the  mountain  was  not 
traced  out  in  detail.  Time  was  urgent;  there  was  no 
telling  how  long  they  might  be  in  the  tunnel.  If  they 
wanted  to  avoid  making  a  night  of  it  they  would  have  to 
hurry. 

Unloading  the  mules,  therefore,  of  their  provisions,  and 
leaving  these  melancholy  animals  in  the  care  of  two 
peons  who  had  come  with  them  from  Bogota,  the  pic- 
nickers equipped  themselves  for  their  adventure — that  is, 
they  fastened  the  miners'  lamps  to  their  hats.  In  the 
case  of  the  men  this  was  not  difficult.    But  Mrs.  Quayle's 


i6o  THE  GILDED  MAN 

extraordinary  headgear,  architecturally  deceptive  and  in- 
secure, proved  so  hopelessly  difficult  that  its  estimable 
owner  was  forced  to  do  without  the  adornment  of  tin 
and  kerosene  provided  for  her.  The  more  stable  bit  of 
millinery  worn  by  Una  was  tractable  enough,  and  with 
her  lamp  attached  firmly  to  her  gray  felt  hat  she  looked 
the  part  she  expected  to  play. 

The  opening  to  the  tunnel  was  much  as  Andrew  had 
described  it,  an  inconspicuous,  narrow  rift  at  the  base 
of  a  great  wall  of  rock.  In  nine  cases  out  of  ten  it  would 
pass  unnoticed;  so  small  an  aperture,  concealed  by 
bushes  and  trailing  vines,  was  safe  from  the  most  inquisi- 
tive travelers.  That  so  timid  a  person  as  the  school- 
master had  discovered  (no  one  took  seriously  his  tale  of 
the  togaed  and  sandaled  stranger)  and  forced  his  way 
through  this  opening  caused  no  end  of  wonder.  To  ac- 
complish the  same  feat  drew  forth  many  a  groan  from 
the  corpulent  Leighton  and  Miranda.  As  for  Mrs. 
Quayle,  what  with  the  squeezing  and  tugging  needed  to 
gain  an  entrance  into  the  region  of  terrors  beyond,  and 
anxiety  lest  some  of  her  jewelry  might  be  lost  in  such 
strenuous  effort,  that  good  lady  came  dangerously  near 
a  condition  of  hopeless  panic.  Undoubtedly  she  would 
have  abandoned  the  expedition  then  and  there  had  it  not 
been  for  the  jeers  of  Miranda  who  assured  her  she  was 
developing  symptoms  that  called  for  a  generous  dose  of 
his  infallible  pills.  Such  a  goad  would  electrify  the 
stubbornest  of  mules  and  a  series  of  desperate  struggles 
brought  Mrs.  Quayle  victoriously  through  the  tunnel's 
entrance. 

This  first  step  in  their  subterranean  travels  sur- 
mounted, the  explorers,  having  lighted  their  lamps,  found 


A  DEAD  WALL  i6i 

themselves  in  a  spacious  rock  chamber,  the  walls  of  which 
rose  above  them  to  a  majestic  height.  Andrew,  espe- 
cially, was  amazed  at  what  he  saw,  declaring  that  it  was 
all  quite  different  from  his  first  experience  in  the  same 
place.  When  it  was  remembered,  however,  that  on  this 
former  occasion  the  schoolmaster  had  only  the  feeble 
glimmer  of  light  that  found  its  way  through  the  opening 
of  the  cave  to  show  him  where  he  was,  the  difference 
betweeen  his  two  impressions  was  not  surprising.  But 
■it  puzzled  his  companions  to  choose  the  route  they  were 
to  follow  in  their  explorations.  Here  Andrew  could  not 
help  them.  Two  passages  were  discovered  leading  from 
the  chamber  in  which  they  stood.  One  went  straight 
ahead,  offering  a  fairly  easy,  unobstructed  path  to  the 
explorer.  The  other,  a  branch  from  the  main  tunnel, 
was  narrow,  strewn  with  debris  of  fallen  rock,  and  alto- 
gether forbidding  in  the  glimpse  that  could  be  had  of 
the  first  few  hundred  feet  of  its  course.  One  feature, 
however,  belonging  to  this  smaller  tunnel  gave  it  the 
preference.  But  before  discovering  this  feature  and 
making  their  choice  the  explorers  thought  it  best  to  in- 
form themselves,  as  well  as  they  could,  of  the  character 
of  the  cave  itself.  In  this  Leighton  naturally  took  the 
lead,  and  from  his  investigations  it  was  concluded  that, 
unlike  other  caves,  the  origin  of  the  Guatavita  cave  was 
primarily  volcanic  and  due  only  secondarily  to  the  action 
of  water. 

The  implement  employed  by  Nature  in  fashioning  her 
underground  caverns  is  usually  water.  Some  mighty 
spring,  deep  within  the  earth's  bosom,  seeks  an  outlet 
for  its  accumulating  current.  It  forces  its  way  through 
whatever  porous  layer  of  rock  comes  in  its  path,  and  by 


i6a  THE  GILDED  MAN 

persistent  action,  occupying  ages  of  time,  disintegrates 
and  destroys  it  altogether.  There  is  left,  as  a  result  of 
the  subterranean  stream's  activity,  a  series  of  tunnels, 
widening  out  oftentimes  into  great  rock  chambers,  and 
extending,  in  several  well  known  instances,  for  many 
miles.  Wherever  water  is  the  sole  architect  the  lines 
that  it  carves,  the  forms  it  molds,  are  smooth,  well- 
rounded;  there  are  no  jagged  edges,  sharp  angles  in  the 
fairy  palaces  and  intricate  labyrinths  that  it  leaves  as 
specimens  of  its  artistic  method.  The  walls  of  the 
Guatavita  tunnel,  however,  were  eloquent  of  a  totally 
different  force  employed  in  their  making.  The  marks 
of  an  angry  Titan  were  upon  them;  the  Titan  of  Fire. 
They  told  of  an  elemental  tragedy,  swift  and  cataclysmic 
in  its  action.  The  deep  scars  in  their  surfaces,  the 
rough  crags  and  pinnacles  jutting  from  them,  were  the 
epic  characters  in  which  the  monster's  struggle  for  free- 
dom were  written  down  for  all  posterity  to  study  and 
wonder  at. 

Thus,  Leighton  did  not  hesitate  to  attribute  an  igneous 
origin  to  the  cave,  and  it  was  after  a  close  examina- 
tion of  the  earth  and  pebble-strewn  floor  that  the  smaller 
tunnel  was  chosen  as  the  best  for  exploration.  There 
were  footprints  in  both  tunnels,  but  in  this  one  they  were 
more  numerous  than  in  the  other,  where  they  had  been 
made,  according  to  Raoul,  at  the  time  dynamite  had  been 
used  in  the  excavations.  Comparing  these  footprints, 
those  in  the  larger  tunnel  were  evidently  from  ordinary 
shoes,  while  in  the  smaller  they  bore  the  impress  of 
sandals. 

"Andrew's  man  in  the  toga  is  the  one  we  want,"  re- 
marked Leighton,  a  decision  that  added  to  Mrs.  Quayle's 


A  DEAD  WALL  163 

agitation  and  did  not  appear  to  increase  the  schoolmas- 
ter's desire  for  adventure.  The  discovery  of  the  imprint 
of  sandaled  feet,  however,  changed  Doctor  Miranda's 
attitude  toward  Andrew  from  banter  almost  to  admira- 
tion. 

"It  is  true,  what  he  say,  this  leetle  fellow,"  he  de- 
clared in  astonishment.  "He  follow  him  here,  the  san- 
dals— and  he  is  alone.     He  is  brave  man,  this  Parmelee!" 

Raoul  remained  silent  and  Herran  shrugged  his  shoul- 
ders skeptically.  After  all,  it  was  difficult  to  believe,  on 
the  strength  of  a  mere  footprint,  that  the  singular  being 
described  by  the  schoolmaster  actually  existed  and  had 
disappeared,  like  some  wraith,  in  the  depths  of  the  cave. 

"That  will  be  a  hard  path  to  follow,"  said  Raoul 
finally.    "I  tried  it — once." 

"What  did  you  find?" 

"Nothing — a  dead  wall." 

"Mercy!"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Quayle,  not  catching  his 
meaning. 

"There  was  no  danger  that  I  could  see,"  continued 
Raoul;  "but  there  was  hard  traveling,  and  no  result 
worth  the  effort." 

"Did  you  notice  these  footprints  when  you  were  here 
before?" 

"It  was  the  footprints  that  led  me  on." 

"I  don't  see  your  footprints  here.  All  these  marks  are 
from  sandaled  feet,"  retorted  Leighton. 

The  discovery  did  not  attract  attention.  It  seemed  of 
slight  significance  to  the  others ;  but  the  savant  continued 
his  examination  of  the  ground  with  redoubled  interest. 
Raoul  also  showed  astonishment  at  the  fact  pointed  out 
to  him,  and  at  first  offered  no  explanation.     Obviously,  a 


i64  THE  GILDED  MAN 

footprint  in  a  cave,  not  subject  to  effacement  by  wind  or 
weather,  should  remain  indefinitely,  unless  destroyed  by 
man  or  animal.  But,  curiously  enough,  the  sandal  prints 
were  not  sufficiently  numerous  to  stamp  out  all  vestige  of 
the  prints  that  must  have  been  made  by  Raoul  in  his 
coming  and  going  through  the  tunnel — if  Raoul  had 
really  ever  been  in  this  tunnel.  So  Leighton  argued,  and 
the  conclusion  that  Raoul  had  not  been  there  at  all  seemed 
logical.  Had  he  deliberately  deceived  them — a  suppo- 
sition for  which  there  appeared  no  motive — or  was  he 
himself  mistaken  in  the  course  he  had  pursued  in  his 
exploration  some  years  ago? 

"Well,  there  it  is,"  laughed  Raoul.  "Your  reasoning 
is  sound.  My  footprints  ought  to  be  here,  but  they 
aren't.    I  can't  explain  it." 

"It  is  not  worth  while,"  exclaimed  Miranda  impa- 
tiently, adding  not  over  lucidly,  "they  take  them  away." 

"Perhaps  Mr.  Arthur  wore  sandals,"  suggested  Andrew, 
illuminated  by  a  brilliant  idea. 

"Whatever  happened.  Uncle  Harold,"  said  Una,  who 
had  ventured  into  the  tunnel  some  distance  ahead  of 
the  others,  "what  difference  does  it  make  now?  We  are 
losing  time  from  our  search — from  your  picnic,  Mrs. 
Quaylel" 

"Picnic!"  she  shuddered.  "How  can  we  picnic  with 
dead  walls  and  mysterious  footprints  all  around  us?" 

"Good!"  exclaimed  Miranda  in  response  to  Una's  ap- 
peal. "The  womens  always  are  captains — the  mens  must 
follow!" 

There  being  no  objection  to  this  way  of  putting  it, 
Leighton  and  Raoul  gave  up  the  puzzle  of  the  footprints 
and  set  out  seriously  to  explore  the  tunnel. 


A  DEAD  WALL  165 

They  soon  found,  as  Raoul  said,  that  traveling  here 
had  its  difficulties.  Huge  boulders  that  took  some  little 
dexterity  and  sureness  of  foot  to  get  over  obstructed  the 
narrow  passage.  For  Una,  who  showed  surprising  agil- 
ity, such  impediments  were  not  disconcerting;  but  Mrs. 
Quayle  found  them  not  at  all  to  her  liking.  Progress 
with  that  bewildered  lady  was  necessarily  slow  and,  in 
some  unusually  rough  places,  had  to  be  made  by  a  sys- 
tem of  shoving  from  behind  and  hauling  from  above  that 
kept  her  in  a  state  of  breathless  agitation.  This  was 
increased  by  imaginary  terrors,  chief  among  which  was 
the  constant  dread  of  meeting  the  apparition  described 
by  Andrew,  whose  story  had  made  a  deep  impression  on 
her  mind. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  Andrew's  man  in  the  toga  was  not 
in  evidence,  except  as  the  occasional  imprint  of  a  sandal 
on  the  floor  of  the  cave  suggested  him.  But  the  ex- 
plorers were  too  busy  surmounting  the  obstacles  with 
which  the  tunnel  was  strewn  to  heed  details  that  other- 
wise might  have  arrested  their  attention.  The  sharp 
edges  of  the  rocky  wall  played  havoc  with  their  clothing, 
drawing  from  Miranda,  incensed  at  his  own  rotundity,  a 
choice  series  of  expletives — fortunately  in  Spanish — and 
arousing  the  wrath  even  of  Mrs.  Quayle.  After  the  first 
five  hundred  yards,  however,  the  passage  widened  suf- 
ficiently for  them  to  look  about  and  take  account  of  the 
perils — if  there  were  any — facing  them. 

The  endless  vista  of  rock,  hewn  in  every  conceivable 
shape  and  lighted  dimly  by  the  rays  from  their  lamps, 
was  dispiriting,  to  say  the  least.  With  the  passing  of  the 
tunnel,  however,  and  its  alarming  sense  of  premature 
entombment,  even  Mrs.  Quayle  experienced  a  faint  return 


1 66  THE  GILDED  MAN 

of  confidence,  while  the  schoolmaster,  her  companion  in 
misery,  began  to  feel  a  mild  curiosity  in  the  outcome  of 
an  adventure  for  the  undertaking  of  which  he  had  been 
the  unwilling  cause.  He  wondered  vaguely  to  what  fur- 
ther depths  of  this  hole  in  the  mountain  the  more  enter- 
prising spirits  of  the  party  would  lead  them. 

"I  am  sure  I  never  came  as  far  as  this,"  he  protested. 

"Well,  what  of  that?"  demanded  Leighton. 

"He  say  he  never  come  here! "  crowed  Miranda.  "Very 
well,  my  leetle  fellow,  you  are  here  now." 

"Yes,  but — how  far  will  we  go?"  he  persisted. 

"You  remember  nothing  of  this?"  asked  Raoul. 

"I — I  rather  think  I  stopped  in  the  beginning  of  the 
tunnel." 

"But  here  are  the  footprints,"  said  Una  eagerly. 

"They  are  made  by  sandals.  I  never  wear  sandals," 
said  Andrew  sadly. 

"Of  course.    They  make  by  the  other  fellow." 

"By  that  man  who  wears  a  toga?"  asked  Mrs.  Quayle 
anxiously.  "It  would  be  awful  to  meet  him  in  this 
place." 

"She  is  afraid,  this  old  lady — she  have  nerves!"  an- 
nounced Miranda.    "She  better  go  back." 

There  being  sound  sense  in  the  observation,  the  others 
stopped  to  consider  it. 

"I  could  never  find  my  way  alone  through  that  tunnel," 
declared  Mrs.  Quayle. 

As  this  was  quite  obvious,  something  had  to  be  done. 
No  one  wished  to  desert  the  unfortunate  lady;  at  the 
same  time  all,  with  the  exception  of  Andrew,  were  anx- 
ious to  press  on  without  delay.  Miranda,  in  terse 
Spanish,  explained  the  difficulty  to  General  Herran,  who 


A  DEAD  WALL  167 

shrugged  his  shoulders  disgustedly,  expressing  emphatic 
disapproval  of  women  as  explorers. 

"We  must  do  something  before  we  go  any  further," 
said  Raoul.    "There  may  be  a  long  journey  ahead  of  us." 

"Do  you  expect  it?"  asked  Leighton. 

"I  have  no  idea  where  we  are." 

"That  means " 

"We  have  passed  the  dead  wall." 

"Merciful  heavens!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Quayle,  "we  are 
tr^Iostl" 

"Hardly  that,"  said  Una  reassuringly.  "It  will  be 
easy  to  go  back  the  way  we  came.  But  this  cave  is  too 
delightful  to  leave.    I  never  breathed  such  air." 

There  was  ample  warrant  for  Una's  enthusiasm. 
From  the  stifling  atmosphere  of  the  tunnel  the  explorers 
had  entered  a  great  rock  chamber  that  widened  as  they 
advanced,  opening  up  vistas  of  majestic  spaciousness 
that  contrasted  strangely  with  the  straitened  path  they 
had  first  followed.  Overhead  the  outlines  of  a  vast  arch- 
ing roof  could  be  dimly  made  out  by  the  flickering  light 
from  the  lamps.  At  either  side  the  dusky  walls,  with 
their  flanking  pinnacles  and  fantastic  gargoyles,  sug- 
gested the  ornate  escarpment  of  some  Gothic  cathedral. 
More  noticeable  even  than  these  architectural  features, 
was  the  delightful  atmosphere,  mild,  fragrant,  invigorat- 
ing, pervading  the  great  silent  spaces.  Usually  the  air 
in  the  famous  caves  familiar  to  tourists,  although  pure 
enough,  is  chilly  and  damp,  so  much  so  that  the  explorer 
is  forced  to  exercise  in  order  to  keep  warm.  Here,  on 
the  contrary,  one  enjoyed  the  temperature  of  a  perfect 
day  in  early  summer — a  fact  that  had  called  forth  Una's 


i68  THE  GILDED  MAN 

praise,  and  was  silently  noted  by  Harold  Leighton  as 
one  of  the  novel  features  of  the  Guatavita  cave. 

"Of  course  we  must  go  on,"  Leighton  decided  impa- 
tiently. "If  Mrs.  Quayle  is  nervous,  she  had  better  wait 
for  us  outside." 

"Perhaps  I  will  be  only  in  the  way  here,"  said  that 
lady  contritely.  "But  what  will  you  do  without  me, 
Una?" 

"X  will  take  her,"  interposed  Miranda  in  a  chivalric 
outburst.  "Come!"  he  added,  turning  unceremoniously 
to  retrace  his  steps  to  the  opening  of  the  tunnel,  a  point 
that  could  not  be  far  away,  although  not  near  enough  to 
be  revealed  by  the  light  thrown  from  their  lamps. 

In  spite  of  the  extended  area  of  the  subterranean 
chamber  in  which  they  were  standing,  it  was  easy  to 
return  to  the  tunnel  by  simply  retracing  the  path  they 
were  on.  This  path  was  marked  by  a  depression  in  the 
uneven  rocky  floor  across  which  it  was  laid.  It  was 
fairly  smooth  and  overspread  by  a  fine  sand  that  bore 
the  impress  of  many  sandaled  feet.  There  was  no  dan- 
ger of  losing  one's  way,  and  the  energetic  doctor,  hurried 
along  so  as  to  spend  the  least  possible  time  on  his  self- 
appointed  mission.  He  did  not  notice  that  the  terrified 
Mrs.  Quayle,  convinced  that  his  invitation  concealed  a 
plot  to  rob  her  of  her  jewels,  failed  to  accompany  him. 
The  others,  amused  at  his  abrupt  departure,  patiently 
awaited  his  return,  watching  the  speck  of  light  made  by 
his  lamp  bobbing  about  in  the  distance.  Presently  the 
light  disappeared,  and  they  concluded  that  Miranda  had 
entered  the  tunnel.  But  in  this  they  were  mistaken.  In 
a  few  minutes  they  were  startled  by  an  explosive  "Caram- 
ba!"  followed  shortly  by  the  apparition  of  the  doctor 


A  DEAD  WALL  169 

running  towards  them,  breathless  from  his  exertions,  and 
exploding  with  mingled  wrath  and  consternation. 

"It  has  gone — lost!  I  cannot  find  him!"  he  shouted 
in  an  incoherent  torrent  of  Spanish  and  English. 

"What  has  gone?"  demanded  Leighton. 

"We  are  lost!     We  are  lost!     The  tunnel  has  gone!" 

"Nonsense!" 

"It  is  true!     I  go  there.     I  not  lie.    I  find  the  tunnel 
,.where  we  come — and  it  has  gone!" 
'•     "Impossible!     What  did  you  find?" 

"I  not  find  it.  It  is  true!  I  find  there  what  this 
fellow  say,"  he  replied,  turning  savagely  on  Raoul.  "It 
is — what  you  call? — one  dead  wall!" 


XIII 

MRS.   QUAYLE  TAKES   THE  LEAD 

MIRANDA  was  not  dreaming — the  tunnel  had  van- 
ished. That  may  be  a  strong  word  for  it;  but 
anyway,  whatever  had  happened,  the  tunnel  was  not  to 
be  found. 

Returning  by  the  path  upon  which  they  had  entered 
the  subterranean  chamber,  they  were  confronted  by  a 
wall  of  rock  where  the  entrance  to  the  tunnel  should  have 
been.  They  were  perfectly  certain  that  when  they 
passed  out  of  the  tunnel,  less  than  half  an  hour  before, 
into  the  main  body  of  the  cave,  this  wall  had  not  been 
there.  Where  it  had  come  from,  why  they  had  not  seen 
it  before,  were  posers  too  puzzling  to  waste  time  over. 
No  one  had  seen  it,  of  that  they  were  certain;  and  they 
couldn't  have  helped  seeing  it  if  it  had  been  there. 
Hence  they  were  forced  to  the  astonishing  conclusion  that 
this  wall  had  moved  into  its  present  position  during  the 
last  half  hour  through  some  invisible,  superhuman  agency. 
The  whole  thing,  in  fact,  was  incomprehensible,  ridicu- 
lous, absurd.  But  there  it  was,  for  all  that — and  it  had 
its  depressing  consequences. 

"You  know  that  crocodile  on  the  river,"  said  Miranda 
impressively;   "he  open  the  mouth — the  bird  walk  in. 

170 


MRS.  QUAYLE  TAKES  THE  LEAD        171 

He  shut  the  mouth — the  bird  is  in  one  trap.    So  it  is 

to  us." 

Terrified  by  this  picture  of  what  had  happened,  Mrs. 
Quayle  involuntarily  clutched  the  jewels  encircling  her 
neck  as  if  to  protect  them  from  some  invisible  brigand. 
The  schoolmaster,  also,  seemed  to  suffer  additional  dis- 
comfort. Miranda's  way  of  putting  it,  however,  failed 
to  satisfy  the  others.  Leighton  stoutly  refused  to  believe 
in  magic.  Herran,  in  voluble  Spanish,  insisted  that 
^  ~ magic  alone  could  explain  the  affair.  Miranda  repeated 
F-^his  alligator  theory. 

"This  cave  is  alive,"  he  added.  "You  see  the  mark  of 
the  feets?" 

"Where  is  Mr.  Arthur?"  suddenly  asked  Una. 

They  had  been  so  absorbed  in  the  mystery  of  the  van- 
ishing tunnel  that  the  absence  of  one  of  their  number 
had  not  been  noticed.  Una's  startled  query  brought 
them  face  to  face  with  another  puzzle,  as  baffling  and 
uncanny,  in  a  way,  as  the  wall  of  rock  that  had  come 
from  nowhere  and  planted  itself  between  them  and  the 
entrance  to  the  cave.  Raoul  had  disappeared;  search 
as  they  might,  call  as  loudly  as  they  could,  no  trace  of 
him  was  to  be  found.  Had  he  deliberately  deserted 
them,  or  had  he  suddenly  been  spirited  away  by  the  same 
invisible  agency  that  had  prevented  their  leaving  the 
cave?  The  more  credulous  of  the  party  believed  he  had 
been  spirited  away. 

"But  it  is  impossible,"  insisted  Miranda  angrily.  "I 
see  him  now — and  now  he  is  not  here.    The  canaille!" 

"There  is  only  one  thing  to  be  done,"  declared  Leighton 
emphatically.  "We  can't  get  out  of  here;  we  must 
go  on." 


172  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"Yesl  Yes!"  exclaimed  Una. 

"Carambal  What  for  we  go  on?"  remonstrated 
Miranda.  "We  are  lost,  we  starve,  if  we  leave  this 
place." 

"You  mean,  we  are  lost  if  we  stay  here,"  reasoned 
Leighton.  "There  is  nothing  to  be  gained  by  staring 
at  this  rock.  The  fact  that  Arthur  has  disappeared,  that 
the  entrance  to  the  tunnel  has  been  closed,  that  there  are 
fresh  footprints  besides  our  own  all  about  us,  proves  that 
this  cave  is  inhabited.  Whoever  they  are,  we  must  find 
these  people." 

Leighton's  way  of  putting  things  was  effective.  It  at 
least  prevented  a  panic.  Even  Miranda  admitted  the 
necessity  of  the  course  proposed  by  the  savant,  and  as 
Herran  had  nothing  else  to  offer  in  its  place,  it  was  de- 
cided to  press  on  with  the  exploration  of  the  cave  without 
delay. 

Fortunately,  they  had  a  fair  amount  of  provisions  and 
enough  oil  to  keep  their  lamps  going  for  several  days. 
Before  starting  on  their  expedition — when  it  promised 
to  be  nothing  more  than  a  "picnic" — this  supply  of  food 
and  fuel  seemed  far  beyond  any  possible  need.  Now, 
thanks  to  the  fussiness  of  Mrs.  Quayle,  who  had  insisted 
on  these  abundant  preparations,  there  was  no  immediate 
danger  of  starvation.  Each  carried  his  or  her  portion  of 
food  in  a  light,  capacious  sack.  These  sacks,  woven  by 
the  natives  from  vegetable  fiber,  swung  easily  from  the 
shoulders.  The  oil  for  the  lamps  was  in  two  cans,  one 
of  which  Andrew  carried,  Raoul  the  other.  Whatever 
had  become  of  Raoul,  his  can  of  oil  had  not  disappeared 
with  him.  It  was  found  near  the  spot  in  the  large  cave 
where  Miranda  had  turned  back  to  take  Mrs.  Quayle 


MRS.  QUAYLE  TAKES  THE  LEAD         173 

to  the  tunnel.  Here,  then,  Raoul  had  left  them.  Hoping 
for  a  clew,  they  examined  the  ground  for  his  footprints, 
but  could  discover  nothing.  The  path  beyond  showed 
the  impress  of  sandaled  feet  only — and  Raoul,  they 
agreed,  did  not  wear  sandals.  Either  he  had  left  the 
path  and  chosen  the  rocky  floor  of  the  cavern  in  its 
stead — in  which  case  it  would  be  impossible  to  dis- 
cover his  trail — or  he  had  followed  them  to  the  tunnel 
and  gone  off  on  one  of  the  side  tracks  that  they  had 
noticed  and  partially  explored  there.  Why  he  should 
have  done  either  of  these  things  was  quite  beyond  them 
to  answer.  At  any  rate,  they  tried  every  means  to 
find  him,  and  their  failure  left  them  more  despondent 
than  ever.    All  except  Leighton  and  Una. 

Failure  did  not  daunt  Leighton.  He  was  convinced 
that  by  persevering  in  their  exploration  they  would 
solve  the  mystery  of  the  cave,  gain  tidings  of  David, 
and  run  down  Raoul.  Una  shared  his  optimistic  view, 
and  both  chafed  at  the  reluctance  of  their  companions 
to  go  ahead  with  the  energy  their  plight  demanded. 
The  fact  is,  the  feeling  that  they  were  caught  in  a  cavern 
of  unknown  extent,  connected  with  certain  mysterious 
happenings  in  the  immediate  past,  mixed  up  in  the 
legendary  history  of  a  vanished  race,  and  inhabited  even 
now  by  strange  beings  in  outlandish  costumes,  had  a 
blighting  effect  upon  them.  Mrs.  Quayle  refused  to  be 
comforted  and,  as  it  was  out  of  the  question  to  go  on 
without  her,  Leighton,  like  an  astute  general,  proposed 
having  lunch  before  doing  anything  else.  Every  one 
brightened  up  at  the  idea;  it  was  one  of  those  master- 
strokes of  policy  that,  when  all  else  fails,  saves  the  day. 
Miranda   declared   emphatically   that   food   was   "good 


174  THE  GILDED  MAN 

for  the  estomach,"  and,  as  no  one  thought  otherwise, 
they  fell  to  with  an  appetite  sharpened  by  their  exer- 
tions and  made  fairly  razor-like — although  this  they 
did  not  realize — by  the  bracing  atmosphere  of  the  cave. 
There  were  hollos  of  corn  and  yucca — yellow,  white, 
brown — variously  flavored,  soggy,  solid.  This  was  a 
concentrated  food  that  just  hit  the  need  of  a  party  of 
marooned  picknickers.  And  there  were  large  flat  disks 
of  cassava,  a  native  bread  that  Mrs,  Quayle  declared, 
with  some  reason,  resembled  chips  of  wood,  more  than 
anything  else,  in  taste  and  toughness.  This,  too,  fur- 
nished the  maximum  of  nourishment  in  a  small  space. 
These  foods,  with  such  fruits  as  the  almond-like  sapoti, 
the  juicy  nispera,  the  delicate  chirimoyo,  furnished  a 
meal  that  aroused  Miranda's  enthusiasm,  although  to  the 
untrained  New  England  palate  it  was  not  quite  so  satis- 
fying as  it  might  be.  The  thought,  too,  that  after  this 
supply  of  food  was  exhausted,  there  would  be  nothing 
to  eat,  and  no  way  of  getting  anything  to  eat,  spoiled 
just  that  part  of  the  picnic  that  should  be  most  enjoy- 
able. And  then,  worse  than  all,  unthought  of  until  now, 
there  was  the  appalling  problem  of — water.  In  the  lunch 
bags  of  Doctor  Miranda  and  General  Herran  there  were 
two  small  bottles  of  red  wine;  but  when  this  was  offered 
to  Mrs.  Quayle  that  unhappy  lady's  thirst  for  water 
reached  an  acute  stage.  She  declared  that  all  wine  was 
poison,  and  that  she  would  die  if  she  couldn't  get  a 
drink  of  water.  Even  Leigh  ton  was  disturbed.  Water 
they  must  have,  but — did  it  exist  in  a  cave  that  was, 
apparently,  caused  by  fire  and  not — as  all  respectable 
caves  are — by  water? 


MRS.  QUAYLE  TAKES  THE  LEAD         175 

"Guatavita!"  exclaimed  Miranda,  smacking  his  lips 
after  a  deep  draught  of  claret. 

"Guatavita!"  echoed  Leighton  irritably.  "Why  not 
say  the  river  Magdalena?  How  are  we  to  reach  Guata- 
vita?" 

"It  is  near,"  was  the  complacent  reply.  "It  come  into 
the  cave." 

"How  do  you  know  that?" 

"Always  there  is  water  in  the  cave.  And  here — there 
is  the  lake  outside." 

"Yes,  outside,"  said  Leighton  bitterly. 

"But  first  it  is  inside." 

Miranda's  confident  assertion  was  worth  considering. 
That  there  might  be — that  there  probably  was — some 
subterranean  connection  between  the  cave  and  the  lake 
— even  if  the  former  did  come  from  fire — was  a  plausible 
theory.  As  he  went  over  the  matter  in  his  own  mind, 
Leighton's  respect  for  Miranda's  common  sense  jumped 
from  zero  to  a  comparatively  high  figure.  But  he  was 
not  convinced. 

"You  forget;  we  are  above  the  level  of  the  lake,"  he 
argued. 

"That  is  true,"  agreed  the  doctor,  who,  in  the  mean- 
time, bottle  in  hand,  had  been  nervously  walking  about, 
peering  into  the  darkness  that  surrounded  them.  "Yes, 
that  is  true.  We  come  in  over  there;  and  always  we 
walk  up,  up.  The  lake  is  always  below.  This  path  it 
never  go  down.  But  here — aha!  Caramba! — is  one  other 
path — and  it  go  down." 

Miranda's  voice  shrilled  with  excitement.  He  was 
elated  with  the  importance  of  his  discovery.  And  it 
was  important.     The  spot  they  had  chosen  for  their 


176  THE  GILDED  MAN 

lunch  was  the  furthest  point  they  had  reached  in  their 
explorations,  the  point  where  Miranda  had  turned  back 
to  take  Mrs.  Quayle  out  of  the  cave  and  where  they 
had  last  seen  Raoul  Arthur.  It  was  marked  by  a  huge 
pyramidal  rock  rising  from  the  floor  of  the  cave.  Along 
one  side  of  this  rock  the  path  they  had  followed  went 
on  indefinitely,  in  a  gradual  upward  incline.  It  was  to 
the  other  side  that  Miranda  eagerly  called  attention. 
Placing  his  bottle  of  claret  down  on  the  rock  beside 
him,  he  got  on  his  knees  and,  with  his  nose  almost 
touching  the  ground,  made  a  minute  study  of  the  floor 
of  the  cave. 

Even  Andrew  felt  the  contagion  of  the  doctor's  excite- 
ment. Fruits,  bollos,  cassavas  were  abandoned  pell  mell 
as  one  and  all  scrambled  to  their  feet  eager  to  find  out 
what  new  puzzle  Miranda  had  managed  to  pick  up. 
The  light  from  their  lamps  cast  huge,  uncertain  shadows 
on  the  irregular  masses  of  rock  that  everywhere  blocked 
the  view.  At  first  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen  that 
differed  essentially  from  what  they  had  grown  accus- 
tomed to  in  this  subterranean  world.  There  was  the 
same  chaos  of  jagged  pinnacles  and  bowlders,  the  same 
display  of  irresistible  energy  that  had  been  let  loose 
and  played  itself  out  here  ages  ago.  But  in  the  midst 
of  it  all,  zigzagging  through  this  maze  of  dusty  forms, 
there  was  the  new  path  announced  by  Miran(^a.  It  led 
away  from  the  central  rock,  or  pillar,  where  they  had 
taken  their  lunch,  and  formed  an  acute  angle  with  the 
path  they  had  already  traversed.  It  was  not  so  plainly 
marked  as  the  latter,  and  appeared  little  more  than  a 
rift  among  the  rocks  that  strewed  the  floor  of  the  cave. 
But  it  was  a  path,  there  was  no  mistaking  that.    Among 


MRS.  QUAYLE  TAKES  THE  LEAD         177 

the  evidences  that  it  had  been  recently  used  was  one 
that  particularly  delighted  Miranda  and  justified  his 
prolonged  microscopic  examination  of  the  path  itself — 
the  footprints  of  a  man  wearing,  not  sandals,  but  shoes. 

"Raoul  Arthur!"  exclaimed  Leighton. 

"Perhaps,"  agreed  Miranda. 

"Where  could  he  have  gone?"  asked  Una.  "This 
path  runs  in  nearly  the  same  direction  as  the  one  we 
followed." 

"We  will  see." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  two  paths,  starting  together 
at  the  central  rock  and  going  thence  in  the  same  general 
direction,  gradually  diverged  from  each  other,  much  as 
do  the  two  lines  that  form  the  letter  V.  Then,  another 
difference  was  noticeable.  The  first  path  followed  a 
comparatively  uniform  level;  the  second  dipped  steadily 
downward.  This  peculiarity,  first  noted  by  Miranda, 
appealed  particularly  to  Herran.  Gloom  had  been  the 
dominant  mood  with  the  general  ever  since  he  had  en- 
tered the  cave.  He  had  made  mental  notes  of  things 
as  they  had  happened,  but  he  had  not  shared  in  the 
discussions  of  the  others.  This  was  partly  due  to  his 
ignorance  of  English,  partly  to  a  sense  of  responsibility 
that  he  felt  as  a  citizen  of  Bogota  whose  duty  it  was 
to  guide  a  party  of  foreigners  safely  through  one  of 
the  difficult  regions  of  his  native  land.  But  now,  at  last, 
he  had  something  to  say,  something  that  was  due  from 
him  as  their  leader.  Tugging  at  his  beard  in  charac- 
teristic fashion,  he  gave  the  result  of  his  observations  in 
terse  Spanish. 

"At  first  we  go  away  from  the  lake.    Then  we  come 


178  THE  GILDED  MAN 

back  to  it,  just  a  little.  Then  we  go  away.  Now  this 
path  take  us  right  there  again." 

"That  is  it,"  agreed  Miranda. 

It  sounded  rather  mixed  up,  and  no  one  paid  much 
attention  to  it.  But  at  least  it  put  General  Herran  in 
a  better  humor. 

"Perhaps  this  will  take  us  out  of  the  cave,"  sug- 
gested Andrew.  "The  path  is  nearly  in  the  right  direc- 
tion." 

"I  hope  it  means  water,  anyway,"  said  Una,  thinking 
of  Mrs.  Quayle. 

They  gathered  up  what  was  left  of  their  provisions 
and  set  off  again,  single  file,  down  the  new  path.  Gen- 
eral Herran  in  the  lead,  Andrew  bringing  up  the  rear. 
They  had  not  gone  many  yards  before  they  noticed  the 
marked  difference  in  the  two  paths.  At  first  the  change 
in  level  was  scarcely  perceptible;  but  now  the  descent 
became  more  and  more  abrupt,  and  as  there  was  less 
sand  and  gravel  for  a  foothold,  they  found  the  smooth 
surface  of  the  rocks,  tilted  often  at  a  sharp  angle,  any- 
thing but  easy  going.  Another  peculiarity  that  soon 
caught  their  attention  was  the  lessening  height  of  the 
cave's  roof.  Until  now  this  roof  had  been  so  far  above 
them  that  they  had  to  throw  their  heads  way  back  to 
see  it,  and  even  then  it  appeared  in  only  vague  outlines. 
Now  it  took  a  downward  curve  that  brought  it  nearer 
and  nearer  to  them.  Following  the  same  descending 
sweep  it  was  evident  that  floor  and  roof  would  shortly 
come  together  and  the  confines,  at  least  of  that  portion 
of  the  cave,  would  be  reached. 

Along  with  this  new  architectural  feature  in  the 
structure  of  the  cave,  there  was  a  noticeable  change  in 


MRS.  QUAYLE  TAKES  THE  LEAD         179 

the  character  of  the  rock  forming  it.  Walls  jind  floor 
had,  until  now,  been  sharp  and  jagged  in  contour,  dull, 
almost  black,  in  color.  But  the  unevenness  of  surface  was 
disappearing.  The  rocks  were  smoother,  as  if  worn  and 
rounded  by  constant  rubbing.  Vivid  colors  gleamed 
from  wall  and  column  with  a  pristine  freshness  suggest- 
ing that  this  part  of  the  cave  belonged  to  a  far  more 
distant  period  than  the  great  rock  chamber  in  which 
they  had  stopped  to  take  their  luncheon.  Finally,  they 
were  surrounded  at  every  hand  by  those  spear-like  for- 
mations, thrust  upwards  from  the  floor  or  depending 
from  the  roof,  that  give  to  the  interiors  of  most  caves 
their  fantastic  appearance — the  stalactites  and  stalag- 
mites about  whose  origin  in  the  workshop  of  Nature  there 
can  be  no  doubt. 

This  change  had  an  invigorating  effect  upon  the  ex- 
plorers. Passing  from  the  unrelieved  gloom  of  the  first 
cavern  into  this  fairy-built  grotto,  with  its  bright  hues 
and  pleasing  shapes,  they  began  to  forget  their  fears 
and  felt  instead  something  like  the  real  enjoyment  that 
belongs  to  unexpected  adventure.  Everything  in  the  way 
of  glorious  surprise  seemed  possible.  For  one  thing, 
Miranda's  confident  prediction  was  apparently  about  to 
be  realized,  a  probability  that  the  doctor  celebrated  by 
alternate  chuckles  and  grunts  of  satisfaction. 

"If  we  don't  find  water,  there  is  at  least  no  doubt  that 
water  has  once  been  here,"  declared  Leighton.  "These 
stalactites  make  that  certain." 

"You  will  see — you  will  see,"  persisted  Miranda.  "It 
is  the  Lake  Guatavita." 

"How  can  that  be?"  argued  Leighton.  "No  opening 
of  the  lake  into  this  cave  has  ever  been  discovered." 


i8o  THE  GILDED  MAN 

''You  will  see." 

One  might  almost  imagine  that  the  intricacies  of  the 
cave  were  as  familiar  to  the  doctor  as  the  formula  for 
his  celebrated  pills.  But  his  confident  attitude  was 
only  one  part  genuine  to  three  parts  bravado.  He  en- 
joyed opposing  a  scientist  showing  such  supreme  self- 
possession  as  Leighton,  and  he  delighted  in  startling 
statements  of  fact  that  merely  bewildered  his  hearers. 
But  he  was  by  no  means  sure  in  his  own  mind  of  the 
truth,  or  even  the  probability  of  the  theory  he  was  ad- 
vancing. General  Herran,  however,  who  had  heard  as 
far  back  as  he  could  remember  the  strange  tales  of 
mystery  regarding  Lake  Guatavita,  and  had  often  spec- 
ulated with  other  Bogotanos  on  the  disappearance  be- 
neath its  waters  of  the  fabulous  wealth  of  the  ancient 
Chibchas,  was  keenly  alive  to  the  possibilities  lying 
before  them  now  that  they  were  on  the  very  spot  haunted 
by  so  many  fascinating  traditions  of  his  race.  Like 
most  natives  of  Bogota  the  Spanish  blood  in  his  veins 
was  mixed  with  the  blood  of  the  Chibchas — and  it  was 
an  infusion  he  was  proud  to  own.  Hence,  he  readily 
believed  that  at  any  moment  they  would  stumble  upon 
a  perfect  mountain  of  treasure,  all  the  lost  gold  and 
emeralds  that  Spanish  romancers  had  dreamed  about 
and  travelers  of  the  old  heroic  times  had  risked  their 
lives  for. 

They  had  now  reached  the  end  of  the  precipitous 
incline  down  which  the  path  had  led  them,  thankful  to 
exchange  the  slipping  and  sliding,  to  which  the  tilted 
rocks  had  treated  them,  for  the  firm  footing  offered  by 
a  comparatively  level  floor.  Here  the  roof  hung  only 
a  few  feet  above  their  heads,  whence  it  curved  down- 


MRS.  QUAYLE  TAKES  THE  LEAD         i8i 

ward,  glistening  with  the  delicate  fretwork  that  the 
subterranean  torrents  of  bygone  ages  had  carved  upon  it, 
until  it  became  a  part  of  the  rock-strewn  ground  beneath. 
The  chamber  thus  formed  became  a  long,  spacious  corri- 
dor, one  side  of  which  was  open  to  the  vast  amphitheater 
they  had  just  left,  the  other  side  stoutly  hemmed  in  by 
a  maze  of  stalactites  and  stalagmites  looming  up  as  sen- 
tinels in  front  of  a  wall  that  could  be  dimly  seen  behind 
them.  Down  the  middle  of  this  corridor  lay  the  path 
they  had  been  following,  wider  now  and  showing  the 
imprint  of  many  sandaled  feet.  Before  them,  at  the  end 
of  the  corridor,  they  could  distinguish  the  outlines  of 
another  wall,  apparently  marking  the  limit  of  this  portion 
of  the  cave. 

"There  is  your  lake/'  said  Leighton  ironically  to 
Miranda,  who  shrugged  his  shoulders  in  reply. 

"At  any  rate.  Uncle  Harold,"  said  Una  reproach- 
fully, "there  must  be  an  opening  here.  And  the  air  is 
just  heavenly!     Instead  of  walking,  one  could  dance." 

The  others  appeared  to  feel  the  truth  of  Una's  obser- 
vation, for  they  moved  along  with  a  briskness,  a  snap, 
they  had  not  shown  before.  This  was  particularly 
noticeable  in  Mrs.  Quayle,  who  seemed  to  be  propelled 
by  some  inner  gayety  of  spirit  that  quite  changed  her 
usually  sedate  manner  and  appearance.  The  transfor- 
mation was  not  lost  on  Una,  who  was  both  amused  and 
puzzled  by  it. 

"Look  at  Mrs.  Quayle's  jewelry!"  she  exclaimed. 
"It  is  dancing  about  as  if  it  were  moved  by  a  breeze 
from  somewhere." 

"What  do  you  mean?  I  can't  feel  any  breeze,"  de- 
clared   Leighton.     "The    singular    fluttering    of    Mrs. 


i82  THE  GILDED  MAN 

Quayle's  jewelry  simply  means,  I  suppose,  that  the 
wearer  is,  as  usual,  agitated." 

That  Mrs.  Quayle  was  agitated,  and  not  in  the  joyous 
frame  of  mind  that  Una  at  first  supposed,  began  to  be 
painfully  evident.  Ever  since  she  had  come  into  the 
cave  agitation  had  been  a  chronic  condition  with  her. 
But  in  this  instance  it  hardly  explained  the  eccentric 
activity  that  had  suddenly  developed  among  the  ancient 
heirlooms  that  she  guarded  so  jealously.  The  large  gold 
pendants  that  dangled  from  her  necklace  beat  an  unac- 
countable tattoo  upon  her  neck  and  shoulders,  while  the 
massive  brooch  fastened  to  her  bodice  showed  an  obsti- 
nate tendency  to  break  away  from  its  moorings.  Even 
the  gold  rings  on  her  fingers  seemed  possessed  with  a 
rebellious  spirit,  a  mischievous  desire  to  dance  in  unison 
with  brooch  and  necklace,  while  two  heavy  bracelets, 
made  of  links  and  chains,  clicked  and  snapped  like  cas- 
tanets under  the  prevailing  terpsichorean  influence. 

For  several  minutes  before  Una  drew  attention  to 
these  strange  antics  Mrs.  Quayle  had  been  unhappily 
aware  of  the  insurrection  that  had  broken  out  among 
her  treasures  and  had  clutched  frantically  at  them  in 
an  unavailing  attempt  to  quiet  their  ill-timed  frenzy. 
She  dabbed  at  them  with  one  hand  and  caressed  them 
with  the  other,  only  to  find  that  as  soon  as  they  were 
freed  from  her  restraining  touch  they  flapped  and  jingled 
and  tugged  at  her  with  renewed  energy.  Finally,  with 
the  eyes  of  all  the  party  upon  her,  the  terrified  lady 
gave  up  in  despair. 

"I  don't  know  what  is  the  matter  with  them,"  she 
wailed;  "they  never  acted  this  way  before.  I  am  not 
agitated,"  she  added  irritably,  "as  Mr.  Leighton  says. 


MRS.  QUAYLE  TAKES  THE  LEAD         183 

And  I  don't  think  it  is  a  breeze  either.  It  takes  more 
than  a  breeze  to  make  bracelets  and  brooches  dance. 
They  are  just  possessed,  and  for  no  reason  at  all.  Oh, 
why  did  I  wear  these  precious  things  on  this  terrible 
journey!" 

Doctor  Miranda,  with  the  steadfast  gaze  of  an  exor- 
cist, planting  himself  firmly  in  front  of  her,  his  arms 
crossed  on  his  chest  Bonaparte-fashion,  added  to  Mrs. 
Quayle's  dismay. 

"I  think  she  have  the  malaria,"  he  announced  sol- 
emnly.    "I  give  her  my  pills " 

"I  won't  take  your  old  pills,"  was  the  spirited  reply. 
"They  nearly  did  for  poor  Mr.  Andrew.  I  think  they 
may  kill  him  yet.  There  is  nothing  the  matter  with  me. 
I  want  to  get  out  of  this  cave — and  I'm  going  to  this  very 
minute." 

Never  in  the  annals  of  her  long  career  as  housekeeper 
and  self-effacing  lady's  companion  had  Mrs.  Quayle 
been  known  to  give  way  to  such  open  defiance  of  any 
one  belonging  to  the  opposite  sex.  And,  as  if  to  show 
that  she  meant  every  word  she  said,  she  brushed  past 
the  astonished  doctor  and  strode  ahead  of  the  others 
along  the  path  leading  down  the  corridor.  To  no  one 
was  her  behavior  more  astonishing  than  to  Leighton,  in 
whom  the  reserve  of  the  scientist  was  sorely  strained  by 
this  sudden  show  of  daring  from  a  creature  whose  timidity 
was  proverbial.  As  leader  of  the  expedition,  and  obeying 
also  the  skeptical  bent  of  his  nature,  the  savant  felt  that 
his  own  dignity  was  involved. 

"Mrs.  Quayle  is  perfectly  right,"  he  announced  coolly; 
"we  must  lose  no  more  time  in  these  trifles.  What  if 
her  jewelry  does  show  a  disposition  to  dance?  A  woman's 


i84  THE  GILDED  MAN 

jewelry  is  always  ridiculous — and  Mrs,  Quayle's  has 
always  been  a  puzzle  besides." 

But  the  rest  of  the  party  soon  found  that  Mrs.  Quayle 
was  not  an  easy  leader  to  follow.  Where  before  she 
kept  them  back  by  her  ineffectual  efforts  to  get  over  the 
various  obstacles  encountered  in  their  explorations,  and 
had  needed  their  help  at  almost  every  step,  she  now 
set  them  a  pace  that  atoned  for  her  former  lagging. 
Whether  this  amazing  activity  was  due  to  a  sudden 
attack  of  fever,  as  Doctor  Miranda  maintained,  or 
whether  it  came  from  a  frantic  desire  to  escape  from  a 
region  that  filled  her  with  superstitious  terrors,  Mrs. 
Quayle  showed  no  sign  of  giving  up  what  she  proposed 
to  do,  whatever  that  might  be.  On  the  contrary,  as  the 
far  end  of  the  corridor  grew  more  distinct  she  sped 
along  faster  than  ever.  Her  rebellious  jewelry  fluttered 
and  twitched  and  danced  more  vigorously,  until  it  fairly 
stood  out  before  her,  straining  and  pulling  her  along, 
breathless  and  hysterical,  as  if  drawn  by  some  irresistible 
force. 

"I  can't  stop  itl    I  can't  stop  it!"  she  gasped. 

To  which  Miranda,  puffing  along  in  her  wake,  replied 
with  dramatic  emphasis:  ''This  little  woman  must  be 
stopl" 

But  this  was  not  easy,  even  for  a  doctor  with  unlim- 
ited experience  in  quinine.  The  smooth,  tapering  sur- 
faces of  the  stalactites,  standing  on  guard  in  long  rows 
down  one  side  of  the  corridor,  glinted  derisively  as  the 
explorers  rushed  past  them  frantically  trying  to  curb  the 
frenzy  that  had  seized  this  perfectly  harmless  woman 
who  was  now  leading  them  on  to  a  goal  that  might  have 
all  kinds  of  disaster  in  store  for  them.    As  they  drew 


MRS.  QUAYLE  TAKES  THE  LEAD        185 

nearer  the  end  of  the  corridor,  the  expected  opening  that 
was  to  deliver  them  from  their  subterranean  prison  was 
not  visible,  at  least  to  the  hasty  glance  that  could  be 
spared  from  the  absorbing  pursuit  of  Mrs.  Quayle.  Nev- 
ertheless, the  awkward  rapidity  with  which  they  were 
hurrying  on  to  their  fate  was  to  be  rewarded,  apparently, 
by  the  discovery  of  something  that  was  different,  at  any 
rate,  from  the  wilderness  of  rocks  that  hitherto  had  baf- 
fled them  in  this  gloomy  underworld — and  it  was  not 
General  Herran's  mountain  of  gold  and  emeralds,  either. 
Something  made  by  man,  and  not  by  nature,  was 
here.  This  was  unmistakably  revealed  in  an  odd  sort  of 
structure  towards  which  they  were  hurrying.  At  last 
they  were  confronted,  they  believed,  by  the  clew  to  the 
mysterious  beings  who  inhabited  the  place,  whose  pres- 
ence had  been  indicated  by  the  footprints,  by  the  man  in 
the  toga,  seen,  or  imagined,  by  Andrew,  and  vaguely  sug- 
gested by  the  weird  disappearance  of  the  entrance  to 
the  tunnel  through  which  they  had  hoped  to  make  their 
escape.  Here  all  these  things  that  had  filled  them  with 
alternate  anxiety  and  curiosity  were  to  be  explained. 
Unfortunately,  Mrs.  Quayle's  impatience  to  get  on  gave 
them  no  opportunity  to  reconnoitre,  at  a  safe  distance, 
the  object  they  were  approaching.  Leigh  ton  especially, 
accustomed  to  the  careful  methods  of  science,  would  have 
preferred  a  more  deliberate  and  cautious  mode  of  travel 
to  the  brainless  hurry  into  which  his  housekeeper  had 
plunged  them.  As  it  was,  the  object  looming  before 
them,  so  far  as  they  could  snatch  time  to  make  it  out, 
resembled  a  huge  stone  windlass.  Even  the  cylindrical 
drum  and  the  long  curved  handle  hanging  at  the  side  of 
one  of  the  tall  uprights  were  of  stone.     Certainly,  a 


i86  THE  GILDED  MAN 

windlass  like  this — if  it  was  a  windlass — ^had  never  been 
seen  before.  It  could  not  be  the  work  of  modern  times — 
it  was  much  too  clumsy  for  that.  And  of  stone!  Per« 
haps  it  belonged  to  the  Stone  Age.  It  was  conceivable 
— and  the  notion  stirred  the  depths  of  the  savant's  soul 
with  delight — that  here,  in  this  subterranean  chamber 
of  the  Andes,  they  were  about  to  stumble  upon  an  archae- 
ological find  that  would  revolutionize  the  current  theories 
as  to  primitive  man  and  his  development.  But — was  it 
a  windlass?  The  two  uprights  carrying  the  long  hori- 
zontal drum  at  the  top,  instead  of  in  the  middle,  were 
some  ten  or  fifteen  feet  high.  With  such  an  abnormal 
height,  and  such  singular  construction,  the  THING 
might  be  intended  to  serve  as  a  gallows  quite  as  reason- 
ably as  a  windlass.  Whoever  would  have  believed  that 
they  had  the  gallows  in  the  Stone  Age!  There,  sure 
enough,  was  the  rope  dangling  most  suggestively  from 
the  crosspiece — or  drum,  whichever  it  might  be.  But 
then,  a  rope  was  the  conventional  adornment,  whether 
for  gallows  or  windlass.  As  they  came  within  fifty  yards 
of  it,  the  THING  looked  unquestionably  more  and  more 
like  a  gallows,  less  like  a  windlass.  It  stood  within  ten 
feet  of  the  wall,  through  a  long,  wide  aperture  in  which 
one  end  of  the  rope  disappeared.  The  other  end,  at- 
tached to  what  appeared  to  be  a  great  oblong  stone,  lay 
coiled  upon  the  ground. 

Not  until  she  had  almost  reached  it  did  Mrs.  Quayle 
realize  the  oddity  of  the  structure  towards  which  she 
had  been  racing.  Then  its  resemblance  to  a  gallows  sud- 
denly flashed  upon  her.  With  a  gurgle  of  horror  she 
threw  herself  upon  the  ground,  unable,  apparently,  so 
long  as  she  remained  upon  her  feet,  to  contend  against 


MRS.  QUAYLE  TAKES  THE  LEAD        187 

the  invisible  influence  that  forced  her  to  run  fairly  into 
the  arms  of  this  terrifying  object.  Prostrate  between 
two  rocks  lying  across  the  path,  her  wild  flight  came 
to  an  end.  Here  her  companions  gathered  around  her 
— Miranda,  puffing  and  panting  from  his  exertions,  deter- 
mined to  allay  the  violent  attack  of  fever  that  he  still 
believed  was  the  cause  of  the  lady's  unaccountable  par- 
oxysms; Leigh  ton,  torn  between  the  psychological  inter- 
est of  the  case  and  the  archaeological  puzzle  awaiting 
solution;  Andrew,  his  huge  hands  waving  about  in  help- 
less dismay,  muttering  incoherent  advice  to  any  one  who 
would  listen,  and  Una,  anxious  to  soothe  an  agitation 
that,  she  conceived,  was  due  merely  to  a  case  of  nerves. 

"She  will  be  all  right — soon  she  will  be  all  right," 
declared  Miranda,  intent  on  his  professional  duties  as 
he  knelt  on  the  ground  beside  Mrs.  Quayle.  With  which 
comforting  assurance  he  seized  one  of  her  hands,  and 
with  his  other  hand  tried  to  force  open  her  mouth. 

"I  am  all  right,"  she  shrieked,  tearing  herself  out  of 
his  clutches.  "There's  nothing  the  matter  with  me. 
Something  is  pulling  me  to  that  terrible  thing  over  there. 
It  seems  to  be  my  jewelry.  My  necklace  is  cutting  my 
head  off.  This  brooch!— oh!  it's  awful!  What  shall  I 
do?    What  is  the  matter?" 

"It  is  very  simple,"  declared  Leighton  sternly.  "Take 
off  your  jewelry  if  it  bothers  you.  I  don't  see  why  you 
should  be  wearing  it,  anyway." 

Mrs.  Quayle  clutched  wildly  at  her  necklace  and 
brooch,  loath  to  part  with  them  and  evidently  regarding 
the  people  gathered  around  her  as  little  better  than  a 
lot  of  brigands  who  had  lured  her  here  to  rob  her  of  her 


i88  THE  GILDED  MAN 

treasures.  Every  one  else  heartily  agreed  with  Leigh- 
ton's  proposal. 

"Caramba!  That  is  true!"  shouted  Miranda  de- 
lightedly. "This  necklace,  it  choke  her  too  much.  I 
take  him  off  of  her." 

Before  Mrs.  Quayle  could  protest  further,  Miranda 
seized  her  by  the  throat,  hauling  at  the  massive  neck- 
lace in  an  effort  to  find  the  clasp  that  held  it  in  place. 
The  task  proved  difficult  and  promised  to  develop  fea- 
tures that  savored  more  of  surgery  than  anything  else. 
The  trouble  was  not  so  much  from  the  defensive  tactics 
employed  by  Mrs.  Quayle — who  contrived  to  elude  Mi- 
randa's grasp  with  surprising  agility — as  it  was  with  the 
necklace  itself.  Never  was  a  simple  piece  of  jewelry  more 
rebellious.  It  slipped  through  the  doctor's  fingers  and 
jumped  about  and  tugged  at  its  victim's  neck  in  the 
most  baffling  and  erratic  manner.  But  Miranda,  growing 
more  eager  and  determined,  triumphed  at  last.  Holding 
the  snakelike  coil  in  both  hands  as  in  an  iron  vise,  he 
tore  the  chain  apart  with  a  masterly  jerk. 

And  then  an  odd  thing  happened.  Bounding  to  his 
feet,  elated  with  his  success,  and  holding  the  necklace 
towards  his  companions  as  if  it  were  a  hard-won  trophy, 
Miranda  suddenly  spun  around  like  a  top,  his  arms  shot 
straight  out  in  front  of  him,  and  in  this  posture,  before 
any  one  knew  what  he  was  about,  he  fairly  raced  towards 
the  ominous  apparatus  at  the  end  of  the  corridor  and 
hurled  himself  on  the  oblong  stone  beneath  it. 


XIV 


THE   BLACK  MAGNET 


FOR  once  Doctor  Miranda  had  nothing  to  say.  To 
the  eager  queries  of  those  about  him  he  returned 
a  grimace  and  a  scowl  of  rage.  Then  he  asked  savagely 
for  Mrs.  Quayle. 

"There  is  her  neckalace,"  he  said  indignantly,  let- 
ting go  his  hold  on  that  extraordinary  piece  of  jewelry 
and  scrambling  to  his  feet  with  as  much  dignity  as  was 
left  to  him. 

"Will  you  tell  me  what  all  this  means?"  demanded 
Leighton  sternly. 

"How  I  know?"  retorted  Miranda,  glaring  venom- 
ously at  him.  "I  pull  the  neckalace  from  the  neck,  and 
it  fly  from  me.  When  I  follow,  it  fly  more  fast — and 
it  get  stronger  and  it  fly  harder  every  time  until  it 
touch  the  rock.    Then  it  stop  and  not  come  loose." 

Sure  enough,  on  the  greenish-black  rock  over  which 
they  were  bending,  the  necklace  was  spread  out  to  its 
full  length.  With  a  quick  jerk,  Leighton  dislodged  one 
of  the  ends  from  its  resting  place.  Letting  it  go,  it 
returned  to  its  original  position  with  the  sharp  snap  of 
a  steel  spring. 

"A  magnet!  The  most  amazing  magnet  ever  heard 
of!"  exclaimed  Leighton. 

189 


igo  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"A  magnet  that  pull  gold!"  scoffed  Miranda.  "That 
is  the  foolishness!" 

But  Leighton  was  right.  Each  time  the  necklace  was 
pulled  away  it  was  drawn  back  to  the  rock  by  a  strong, 
invisible  force.  Repeated  trials  brought  the  same  result. 
Leighton's  curiosity  was  excited  as  it  had  never  been 
before;  but  his  most  careful  examination  of  the  strange 
phenomenon  failed  to  detect  anything  more  than  the 
fact  that  the  substance  exerting  this  unknown  force  was 
not  stone  but  something  more  nearly  akin  to  metal.  It 
was  neither  so  heavy  nor  so  hard  as  iron.  To  the  touch 
its  surface  faintly  resembled  the  adhesive  softness  of 
velvet,  although  a  blow  from  a  stone,  causing  a  clear, 
ringing  sound,  left  not  the  slightest  mark  upon  it.  In 
the  main,  this  block  of  metal — or  whatever  it  might  be 
called — was  a  deep  black,  tinged  with  a  variegated  shade 
of  green  that  played  over  it  according  to  the  angle  at 
which  the  ray  from  a  light  held  above  it  was  reflected. 
Dark  lines  of  green  followed  the  indentations  traversing 
its  surface.  Cylindrical  in  shape,  it  weighed,  according 
to  Leighton's  estimate,  at  least  a  ton.  Imbedded  in  a 
deep  groove  around  its  center  was  a  rope,  measuring 
two  inches  in  diameter,  of  pliable  fiber,  resembling  the 
long  lianas  that  festoon  the  trees  of  a  tropical  forest. 
This  rope  lay  in  a  seamanlike  coil  on  the  ground,  with 
the  further  end  attached  to  the  transverse  beam  of  the 
scaffolding  overhead. 

"It  is  a  magnet,  nothing  else,"  reiterated  Leighton; 
"a  magnet  of  a  kind  utterly  unknown  to  science.  All 
we  can  say  is  that  this  black  metal  has  an  affinity  for 
gold — unless  it  turns  out  that  Mrs.  Quayle's  jewelry  is 
merely  iron  gilded  over." 


THE  BLACK  MAGNET  191 

This  doubt  as  to  the  genuineness  of  the  housekeeper's 
treasures  was  promptly  denied,  however,  by  Una,  who 
guaranteed  their  sterling  quality. 

"Let  us  test  the  rest  of  her  jewelry,"  proposed 
Leighton. 

To  this  further  demand  on  her  property  Mrs.  Quayle, 
wedged  in  between  two  rocks  on  the  path  where  they 
had  left  her,  too  terrified  to  move,  offered  only  a  feeble 
protest.  It  mattered  little  to  her,  in  her  present  con- 
dition, if  her  bracelets  and  brooch  followed  the  necklace 
to  their  doom.  One  by  one  they  were,  accordingly,  re- 
moved by  Una,  who,  probably  because  she  was  less 
excitable  than  Miranda — and  because,  too,  she  had  prof- 
ited by  his  untoward  experience  in  the  same  undertaking 
— was  able  to  handle  these  pieces  of  jewerly  without  mis- 
hap. The  force  with  which  they  were  pulled  towards  the 
Black  Magnet,  however,  and  the  tenacity  with  which 
they  stuck  to  it,  gave  ample  evidence  that  they  answered 
to  the  same  influence  that  still  held  the  necklace. 

"That  is  enough,"  said  Leighton  triumphantly.  "The 
thing  is  proved.  This  is  a  gold  magnet.  If  we  lived  in 
the  Middle  Ages  we  would  call  it  the  Philosopher's 
Stone.  The  theory  that  such  a  substance  exists  has 
attracted  scientists  who  were  more  given  to  dreaming 
than  practical  observation.  In  this  age  we  have  neither 
looked  for  it  nor  believed  in  the  possibility  of  its  exist- 
ence.   And  here  it  is!" 

"What  it  make  here?"  demanded  Miranda.  "Tied 
by  a  rope  to  the  machine — some  one  use  it." 

The  inference,  logical  enough,  certainly,  increased 
Leighton 's  excitement.  That  the  magnet  was  known  and 
used  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  cave — if  there  were  inhab- 


192  THE  GILDED  MAN 

itants — was  evident.  Under  certain  conditions  a  bar  of 
metal  that  could  attract  gold  with  such  force  as  that 
displayed  by  the  Black  Magnet  would  be  of  untold  value. 
Here,  where  there  were  no  evidences  of  mining  opera- 
tions, and  attached  to  this  primitive  machine,  it  was  dif- 
ficult to  explain  what  it  was  actually  used  for. 

Leighton,  more  and  more  mystified,  determined  that 
the  best  way  to  solve  the  puzzle  was  to  operate  the  ma- 
chine in  the  manner  indicated  by  its  structure.  It  was 
not,  as  he  pointed  out — but  as  they  in  their  first  excite- 
ment imagined — a  gallows.  Instead,  it  was  a  winch,  built 
in  the  most  simple  and  archaic  fashion ;  and  as  the  Black 
Magnet  was  attached  to  it,  the  evident  purpose  was  to 
hoist  that  huge  body  from  the  ground.  Before  testing 
this  theory,  Mrs.  Quayle,  who  had  recovered  from  her 
collapse  sufficiently  to  join  the  others,  insisted  that  her 
jewelry  should  be  released  from  the  magnet.  Suspicious 
of  the  intentions  of  some  of  her  companions,  she  was 
determined  to  regain  possession  of  her  treasures  at  once. 
But,  as  it  was  apparently  impossible  to  wear  her  jewelry 
with  comfort,  or  even  safety,  in  the  immediate  vicinity 
of  the  Black  Magnet,  necklace,  brooch  and  bracelets  were 
removed  to  a  distant  corner  of  the  corridor  and  there 
placed  beneath  a  pile  of  stones.  This  done,  the  four 
men  started  to  work  the  two  long  handles  of  the  winch. 
At  first  these  were  turned  with  difficulty,  the  resistance 
proving,  at  least  to  Leighton's  satisfaction,  that  the 
machine  had  not  been  used  for  a  long  time.  Gradually, 
however,  the  coil  of  liana  was  transferred  from  the 
ground  to  the  transverse  beam  overhead  until  it  pulled 
taut  with  the  magnet  beneath. 

Then  came  the  real  trial  of  strength.     The  magnet 


THE  BLACK  MAGNET  193 

wouldn't  budge.  Miranda  puffed  and  grumbled  over 
the  task,  declaring  it  impossible.  The  rest  stopped  and 
rubbed  their  arms  ruefully.  But  Leighton  was  inexor- 
able. Encouraging  the  others,  and  keeping  them  at  it, 
by  dint  of  increased  exertion — to  which  Una  brought 
additional  assistance — the  great  Black  Magnet  was 
finally  dragged  from  its  moorings  and  held  suspended 
just  above  the  ground.  It  formed  a  perfect  cylinder, 
about  four  feet  long  by  a  foot  and  a  half  in  diameter,  and 
must  have  weighed,  they  estimated,  considerably  over  a 
ton — ten  tons,  vowed  Miranda.  On  a  winch  of  modern 
design  this  weight  would  not  have  been  difficult  to  lift. 
But  the  hoisting  apparatus  they  were  using  lacked  the 
ordinary  adjustments  for  counterbalancing  such  weights; 
hence,  the  muscular  force  needed  proved  no  small 
matter. 

"It  take  twenty  men  to  lift  this  magnet,"  growled 
Miranda. 

"Twenty  men  could  do  it  more  easily  than  four  men 
and  a  woman,  undoubtedly,"  replied  Leighton.  "But 
four  can  do  it." 

And  he  was  right.  Inch  by  inch  the  magnet  rose  from 
the  ground — for  what  ultimate  purpose  was  not  very 
clear,  any  more  than  that  it  was  thought  necessary  by 
Leighton,  in  order  to  discover  the  use  to  which  this 
strange  bar  of  metal  had  been  put,  first  to  test  the  appli- 
ance obviously  intended  to  bring  it  into  action.  It 
reached  a  height  of  one  foot  from  the  ground,  then  two, 
then  three  feet;  then  it  stopped.  There  were  groans  and 
smothered  imprecations,  and  it  looked  very  much  as  if 
the  huge  bar  of  metal  would  come  crashing  down  to  the 
ground  again.    But  the  men,  urged  on  by  Leighton,  did 


194  THE  GILDED  MAN 

not  give  in.  And  then — there  was  a  grating  noise,  as 
if  some  hidden  mechanism  in  the  scaffolding  had  been 
set  free.  After  which  a  strange  thing  happened.  The 
transverse  beam  at  the  top  of  the  windlass  detached  itself 
from  one  of  the  uprights  supporting  it  and,  using  the 
other  upright  as  a  fulcrum,  slowly  swung  to  the  wall  of 
the  cave,  where  it  rested  in  a  socket,  bringing  the  magnet 
that  was  suspended  from  it,  directly  over  a  shelf-like 
projection  beneath. 

"Keep  on!  Keep  on!"  cried  Leighton  encouragingly. 
"Now  we  will  see." 

Thoroughly  aroused,  the  others  redoubled  their  exer- 
tions. The  magnet  remained  stationary  for  a  few  sec- 
onds, the  liana  supporting  it  tightening  with  every  revo- 
lution of  the  drumhead  at  which  the  men  were  labor- 
ing. Then  it  slowly  disappeared  downward,  the  liana 
uncoiling  itself,  thus  reversing  the  movement  that  before 
had  carried  it  upward.  There  was  a  gradual  increase 
in  the  momentum  of  its  descent,  followed  by  the  splash- 
ing sound  caused  by  the  impact  of  a  heavy  body  upon 
the  surface  of  a  pool  of  water;  after  which  the  liana  was 
paid  out  until  it  reached  its  full  length — when  it  sud- 
denly slackened  and  came  to  a  full  stop. 

"There,  Mrs.  Quayle,  is  your  water,"  announced 
Leighton. 

"Water!"  sneeringly  echoed  a  voice  from  the  dark- 
ness behind  them.  "Say,  rather,  there  is  the  secret  of 
Guatavital" 

"Raoul  Arthur!"  exclaimed  the  others. 

Letting  go  the  handle  of  the  windlass,  they  rushed  to 
the  spot  where  the  Black  Magnet  had  vanished.    There, 


THE  BLACK  MAGNET  195 

at  one  side  of  the  rocky  projection,  stood  Raoul,  pale 
and  haggard,  the  light  in  his  lamp  extinguished. 

"I  suspected  this,"  he  said,  as  if  his  sudden  reappear- 
ance among  them  were  the  most  natural  thing  in  the 
world.  "I  knew  from  the  direction  of  the  path  that  it 
led  back  to  the  lake.  I  have  been  trying  to  reach  this 
place  for  years.  Oh,  yes!  I  had  heard  something  about 
it  before — I  don't  deny  that.  But,  of  course,  I  expected 
to  stay  by  you.  So,  when  you  started  to  leave  the  cave 
I  came  back,  expecting  to  rejoin  you.  As  I  was  exam- 
ining the  machine  I  was  attacked  by  two  men,  thrown 
to  the  ground  and  left  unconscious.  I  came  to  myself 
a  few  minutes  ago — in  time  to  congratulate  you,  it  seems, 
upon  solving  the  mystery  of  the  cave." 

"That  is  strange,"  said  Leighton  coldly.  "You  left 
us,  without  a  word,  at  a  time  when  you  were  needed. 
The  attack  that  you  say  was  made  upon  you  we  should 
have  heard.    But — we  have  heard  nothing." 

"Believe  me,  or  not,  as  you  like;  it  is  true,"  was  the 
sullen  reply. 

"Why  do  you  say  we  have  the  secret  of  Guatavita?" 

"Lookl" 

Raoul  pointed  to  the  projection  in  the  wall  behind 
which  the  Black  Magnet  had  disappeared.  It  was  not  a 
shelf,  as  they  had  at  first  supposed,  but  the  opening  of 
a  shaft,  or  well,  that  slanted  downward  at  an  angle  that 
in  the  course  of  fifty  feet,  or  less,  would  reach  consid- 
erably beyond  the  vertical  line  of  the  cave's  wall.  In 
shape  this  shaft  was  oblong,  slightly  larger  in  length  and 
in  breadth  than  the  Black  Magnet.  It  was  evidently 
of  artificial  origin,  its  four  walls  being  perfectly  smooth 
and  without  irregularities  of  line.    Even  by  one  who  had 


196  THE  GILDED  MAN 

not  seen  the  magnet  descend  into  this  shaft,  its  intended 
use  as  a  sort  of  runway  for  raising  and  lowering  heavy 
bodies  would  be  quickly  recognized.  But  where  it  led 
to  was  another  matter.  One  thing  was  easily  discovered: 
where  it  reached  a  point  some  twenty  feet  below  the 
level  of  the  cave's  floor  the  shaft  was  filled  with  water. 
Beyond  this,  of  course,  nothing  could  be  made  out.  It 
was  to  the  bottom  of  the  pool  thus  indicated  that  the 
magnet  had  plunged. 

"It  is  a  well  hewn  out  of  the  rock  by  Indians — or  per- 
haps by  Spaniards  digging  for  gold,"  said  Leighton. 

"I  believe  that  we  are  the  first  white  people  who  have 
ever  stood  in  this  place,"  said  Raoul;  then  added,  "unless 
David  Meudon  was  here  three  years  ago." 

"But  what  is  it  about?"  demanded  Miranda  impa- 
tiently. "What  for  is  the  magnet,  and  this  well,  and  this 
machine?" 

"Pull  up  the  magnet  and  see  for  yourself,"  was  the 
laconic  reply. 

"Caramba!  That  will  be  impossible,"  protested  the 
doctor,  not  relishing  the  prospect  of  another  turn  at  the 
machine. 

"It  is  the  logical  thing  to  do,"  agreed  Leighton. 

The  rest  shared  Miranda's  aversion  to  another  bout 
at  the  winch;  but  Leighton,  backed  by  Raoul  Arthur, 
finally  persuaded  them  that  their  only  hope  of  escape 
from  the  cave  depended  on  keeping  at  this  puzzle  until 
they  had  solved  it,  and  that  the  first  step  in  this  direc- 
tion was  to  hoist  the  Black  Magnet  from  its  watery  rest- 
ing place  at  the  bottom  of  the  shaft.  Reluctantly  obeying 
the  command,  they  again  seized  the  long  handle  of  the 
windlass.     This  time  it  was  fortunate  they  had  Raoul 


THE  BLACK  MAGNET  197 

to  help  them,  since  the  resistance  offered  by  the  magnet, 
which  now  had  to  be  hauled  up  an  inclined  plane  by  means 
of  a  rope  nearly  one  hundred  feet  in  length,  was  consid- 
erably greater  than  before.  The  windlass  creaked  and 
trembled  as  revolution  after  revolution  of  the  drumhead 
slowly  brought  the  great  black  bar  of  metal  nearer  to 
the  surface.  They  could  hear  the  far  off  swirl  of  the 
water  as  the  ascending  liana  vibrated  through  it.  Min- 
utes that  seemed  to  lengthen  into  hours  passed  without 
appreciable  result.  Then,  at  last,  they  heard  the  water 
rising  as  the  magnet  reached  the  mouth  of  the  shaft. 
There  was  an  additional  strain  on  the  liana,  followed  by 
the  noise  of  a  commotion  in  the  subterranean  pool  as  the 
liquid  streams  poured  back  from  the  emerging  body. 

But  still  the  end  to  their  work  was  not  in  sight.  With 
every  turn  of  the  handle  the  weight  of  the  body  at  which 
they  were  pulling  seemed  to  increase.  Mrs.  Quayle,  sole 
spectator  of  what  was  happening,  watched  the  opening  of 
the  well  with  dismal  apprehension,  convinced  that  some 
dreadful  transformation  had  taken  place  in  its  hidden 
depths.  When  the  top  of  the  magnet  finally  rose  into 
view  she  shrieked  hysterically.  To  her  notion  the  great 
black  body  had  an  uncanny  look;  it  had  turned  into 
a  devil,  for  aught  she  knew,  filled  with  evil  designs 
against  them.  Anything  that  was  supernaturally  hor- 
rible, she  believed,  could  happen  in  this  cave — and  there 
was  enough  in  her  recent  experiences,  indeed,  to  give 
some  color  to  her  belief. 

But,  devil  or  djinn,  the  water  dripped  and  splashed 
in  sparkling  runlets  from  the  shining  body  of  the  Black 
Magnet  that  had  gained  in  luster  since  its  submersion  in 
the  well.    It  seemed  more  alive  than  before,  more  capable 


198  THE  GILDED  MAN 

of  exerting  the  mysterious  force  that  had  played  such 
pranks  with  Mrs.  Quayle's  jewelry.  As  it  cleared  the 
top  of  the  well  the  arm  of  the  windlass  to  which  it  was 
hung,  as  if  obeying  some  invisible  signal,  detached  itself 
from  the  socket  in  the  wall  and  slowly  swung  back  into 
its  original  position  between  the  two  uprights  of  the 
machine.  Here,  as  before,  a  reverse  motion  took  place. 
The  Black  Magnet  was  poised  for  a  moment  in  the  air. 
It  then  descended  to  the  ground,  resting,  finally,  in  the 
same  spot  where  the  explorers  first  discovered  it. 

A  sigh  of  relief  escaped  them.  Hoisting  heavy  weights 
was  not  much  to  their  taste  and  they  were  glad  the  task 
was  over.  Then  they  rubbed  their  eyes,  half  expecting 
to  see  something  miraculous,  some  sudden  transforma- 
tion as  a  result  of  their  labors.  But  the  Black  Magnet, 
except  for  the  brilliance  due  to  its  bath  in  the  depths 
of  the  earth,  looked  exactly  as  it  was  before.  This,  it 
must  be  confessed,  was  disappointing  to  those  who  had 
been  promised  great  rewards  for  toiling  so  patiently  at 
the  windlass.  Raoul  had  declared  the  experiment  would 
solve  the  secret  of  Guatavita,  But  they  failed  to  see  how 
a  wet  rock — or  bar  of  metal,  whichever  it  might  be — 
with  mud  sticking  to  it,  had  any  connection  with  a  secret. 
Raoul,  however,  was  not  disconcerted.  Getting  to  work 
on  the  magnet,  he  examined  minutely  every  inch  of  its 
surface.  At  first  he  found  nothing.  Then,  to  the  amaze- 
ment of  the  others,  he  extracted  from  one  of  the  large 
fissures  in  the  magnet  a  thin  disc  encrusted  with  the 
microscopic  growths  that  form  on  metals  that  are  long 
subjected  to  the  action  of  water.  This  disc  proved  its 
metallic  nature  by  the  force  needed  to  release  it  from 
the  magnet.     Much  of  the  brown  matter  sticking  to  it 


THE  BLACK  MAGNET  199' 

was  wiped  away  with  a  cloth,  the  more  tenacious  growth 
beneath  was  rubbed  and  scraped  with  a  sharp  stone. 
When  the  scouring  was  finished  Raoul  triumphantly  held 
up  the  disc.  It  was  a  dazzling  plate  of  gold,  thin  and 
flexible,  rudely  carved  to  resemble  a  human  being.  In 
size  it  was  not  more  than  the  palm  of  one's  hand,  some- 
what of  that  shape,  a  trifle  longer  and  narrower,  with 
a  projection,  intended  to  depict  a  man's  head,  face 
and  neck,  like  a  pyramid  standing  on  its  apex,  upon 
which  were  traced  in  embossed  lines  three  loops  to  rep- 
resent the  mouth  and  eyes,  with  another  line  running 
down  the  middle,  long  and  straight,  to  represent  the 
nose.  The  body  of  the  figure  was  similarly  carved — 
raised  lines  folded  over  the  stomach  for  arms,  with  vari- 
ous loops  and  coils  around  the  neck  and  chest,  intended, 
doubtless,  to  indicate  the  ornaments  and  insignia  of 
rank  worn  by  the  image  or,  rather,  the  human  being  or 
god  for  which  it  stood.  All  this  was  done  in  the  finest 
gold  tracery,  which,  if  it  lacked  some  of  the  subtleties 
of  the  goldsmith's  art  as  we  know  it,  was  expressed, 
nevertheless,  with  admirable  delicacy  and  firmness.  In 
the  head  of  the  figure  was  a  round  hole  showing,  doubt- 
less, that  the  disc  was  worn  as  a  pendant  by  its  owner, 
or  was  hung  as  a  votive  offering  before  his  or  her  house- 
hold deity. 

Leighton  had  seen  figures  of  like  character  and  work- 
manship in  Bogota,  where  they  were  exhibited  as  orna- 
ments worn  by  the  ancient  Chibchas.  Usually  they  were 
said  to  have  been  brought  up  by  divers  from  the  bottom 
of  Lake  Guatavita.  Hence,  there  was  little  doubt  as 
to  the  origin  and  antiquity  of  the  disc  presented  to  them 
by  the  Black  Magnet.     But  how  this  disc  came  to  be 


200  THE  GILDED  MAN 

at  the  bottom  of  a  well  in  this  vast  subterranean  laby- 
rinth was  not  so  easily  answered.  If  this  disc  was 
the  much  talked  of  clew  to  the  lost  treasure  of  the  Chib- 
chas,  and  to  all  the  other  mysteries  that  seemed  to  crop 
up  at  every  step  the  further  they  went  into  this  cave, 
it  was  not  an  easy  one  to  run  down.  And  then,  Miranda, 
who  had  insisted  all  along  that  by  following  the  direction 
in  which  they  had  been  going  they  were  bound  to  reach 
the  lake,  blundered  upon  the  answer  to  the  whole 
question. 

"It  is  Guatavital"  he  said. 

Of  course,  that  was  it!  Herran  and  Leighton  gasped 
for  a  moment  as  they  took  in  the  idea,  and  then  they 
agreed  that  Miranda  was  right.  Raoul  smiled  enigmat- 
ically as  they  discussed  the  problem  in  detail. 

"Well,  do  you  understand  it  now?"  he  asked.  "Have 
you  discovered  Guatavita's  secret?  I  wish  I  had  known 
it  three  years  ago!"  he  added  bitterly. 

"Ah!  I  see — I  see!"  shouted  the  doctor  excitedly. 
"There  is  the  well  that  come  out  at  the  bottom  of  the 
lake.  Here  is  the  magnet  that  go  down  there  just  when 
the  people  throw  in  all  the  gold.  And  then  it  come  back 
here — and  no  one  know  except  the  king  and  his  family. 
So,  every  year,  they  take  all  the  gold  of  the  country. 
Ah!  they  are  very  wise  leetle  fellows,  those  kings!" 

"Then,  if  this  is  true,"  said  Leighton  meditatively; 
"if  this  well  has  its  outlet  at  the  bottom  of  the  lake,  and 
was  made  and  used  secretly  to  collect,  by  means  of  the 
Black  Magnet,  the  treasure  offered  by  the  people  in  the 
Feast  of  El  Dorado,  to-day  there  is  no  gold  left  in 
Guatavita." 

"If  it  were  drained  of  all  its  waters,"  remarked  Raoul, 


THE  BLACK  MAGNET  201 

"I  believe  that  the  emptied  basin  would  be  found  to 
contain  nothing  more  than  a  few  stray  gold  ornaments 
— like  the  one  you  fished  up  just  now — that  failed  to 
reach  the  Black  Magnet  when  they  were  flung  into  the 
lake  centuries  ago." 

"Your  plans  to  empty  the  lake,  then,  are  useless?" 

"After  what  I  have  learned  to-day,  added  to  what  I 
have  long  suspected,  I  should  say — quite  useless." 

"But  the  fabulous  amount  of  treasure  those  deluded 
people  threw  into  the  lake  for  centuries ?" 

"Has  all  come  up  here,  where  we  are  standing  now, 
caught  by  the  Black  Magnet." 

"He  fish  very  well,  this  leetle  stone,"  said  Miranda, 
caressing  it  fondly.  "He  catch  more,  better  fish  than  the 
whole  world."     . 

"Where  is  all  that  gold  to-day?"  demanded  Leighton. 

"Ah!     Where!" 

"Good  heavens!    What  is  that?" 

While  Leighton  and  Raoul  were  discussing  the  old 
problem  of  what  became  of  the  Chibcha  Empire's  far- 
famed  treasure,  the  others  had  wandered  away  from  the 
Black  Magnet  and  were  examining  some  of  the  strange 
objects  in  its  immediate  vicinity.  The  more  familiar  they 
became  with  this  portion  of  the  cave,  the  more  signs 
they  saw  in  it  of  human  occupation.  For  one  thing,  the 
place  was  honeycombed  with  paths,  most  of  them  radi- 
ating from  the  shaft  that  sank  to  the  bottom  of  Lake 
Guatavita.  These  paths  led  in  different  directions;  but 
there  was  no  way  of  telling  whether  any  or  all  of  them 
had  been  recently  used.  This  question  was  of  more 
immediate  interest  than  the  one  connecting  the  cave 
with  the  fate  of  the  ancient  Chibchas.    If  this  cave  was 


202  THE  GILDED  MAN 

inhabited  to-day — if  it  was  the  hiding  place  of  a  lawless 
gang  of  Bogotanos,  for  example — it  was  well  for  the 
explorers  to  be  on  their  guard.  Herran  was  particularly 
alive  to  this  possibility,  and  he  was  quick  to  heed,  there- 
fore, Mrs.  Quayle's  terrified  exclamation,  which  she  re- 
peated— 

"Good  heavens!     What  is  that?" 

It  was  at  the  head  of  one  of  the  paths,  running  behind 
the  close  ranks  of  stalactites  before  which  they  had 
found  their  way  from  the  large  open  cave  beyond,  that 
Mrs.  Quayle  stood,  her  eyes  round  with  excitement, 
pointing  vaguely  at  something  in  front  of  her.  But  the 
others  could  see  nothing.  Indeed,  it  was  hard  to  tell 
whether  she  had  really  seen  anything  worth  serious 
investigation,  her  chronic  nervousness  had  such  an 
uncomfortable  habit  of  discovering  specters — that  did 
not  exist — in  every  dark  corner.  Then,  too,  clusters 
of  stalactites  had  a  way  of  taking  on  odd,  fantastic 
shapes  that  might  easily  seem  to  be  alive  even  to  the 
cool-headed.  But  this  time  there  really  was  substance 
to  Mrs.  Quayle's  fancies.  She  continued  to  point  down 
the  pathway  of  stalactites,  crying  repeatedly — 

"What  is  that?" 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  demanded  Leighton. 

"The  man  in  the  toga!  The  man  in  the  toga!"  she 
cried  breathlessly. 

The  others  crowded  about  her. 

"It  is  nothing!"  said  Miranda  incredulously. 

"It  is!  It  is!"  whispered  Una.  "I  just  caught  the 
flash  of  white  drapery  at  the  bend  in  that  farthest 
corridor." 


THE  BLACK  MAGNET  203 

Raoul  laughed.  "You  are  mistaken,"  he  said.  "Noth- 
ing is  there  now,  that's  certain." 

They  stood  silently  watching  the  dark  green-and-white 
figures  that  stretched  away  in  closely  huddled  ranks  be- 
fore them.  But  they  could  detect  nothing  that  answered 
to  Mrs.  Quayle's  description.  There  was  nothing  that 
moved,  nothing  human,  in  all  that  glittering  array  of 
grotesque  forms.  Then,  there  was  a  sharp,  clinking 
sound,  as  if  the  brittle  point  of  a  stalactite  had  been 
broken  off  and  had  fallen  to  the  ground. 

"We  are  watched,"  said  Leighton  in  a  low  voice. 
"Whoever  they  are,  these  people  have  some  reason  for 
following  us — and  keeping  out  of  the  way." 

"Time  to  be  on  our  guard,"  said  Herran  in  Spanish 
to  Miranda,  who  assented  vehemently. 

"Nonsense!"  exclaimed  Raoul. 

"Ahl  You  say  that?"  growled  Miranda  suspiciously. 
"This  is  one  trap  of  yours,  thenl" 

The  accusation  added  to  the  general  alarm.  Raoul 
protested  scornfully;  but  before  he  had  time  to  clear 
himself  he  was  covered  by  two  huge  revolvers,  drawn 
simultaneously  by  Herran  and  Miranda. 

"It  is  not  so  easy!"  threatened  Miranda,  whose  ex- 
cited flourish  of  firearms  endangered  the  others  quite 
as  much  as  it  did  Raoul. 

"Thank  heaven,  we  have  guns!"  murmured  Andrew, 
who  had  produced  a  harmless  looking  pocket-knife  which 
he  brandished  ineffectively. 

"This  sort  of  thing  is  very  annoying,"  said  Leighton, 
addressing  Raoul,  who  began  to  show  uneasiness. 
"There's  no  denying  that  your  disappearance  was  suspi- 
cious.   Then  we  find  you  here  in  a  place  that  is  evidently 


204  THE  GILDED  MAN 

known  and  frequented  by  others.  Your  explanation  is  un- 
satisfactory. Then,  when  the  presence  of  these  hitherto 
invisible  people  is  quite  certain,  you  try  to  divert  our 
attention  from  them." 

"You  are  talking  nonsense,"  said  Raoul  disgustedly. 
"You  intimate  that  I  am  in  league  with  the  inhabitants 
of  this  cave  against  you.  That  means,  I  must  have 
lured  you  here  deliberately  to  do  you  harm.  Please 
remember  that  it  was  you  who  planned  this  expedition, 
and  that  I  had  not  ventured  in  here  so  far  before." 

"Who  knows!  You  seemed  familiar  enough  with  the 
secret  of  the  Black  Magnet." 

"Take  us  out  of  here,  my  fellow,  and  we  believe  you 
are  not  one  scamp,"  said  Miranda  brusquely. 

"I  am  not  bound  to  do  anything  of  the  kind,  even  if 
I  could,"  retorted  Raoul.    "Look  out  for  yourselves." 

"Sol  that  is  good,"  commented  Miranda.  "We  take 
the  advice.  Here  we  can  do  nothing.  Into  Guatavita 
we  cannot  jump  through  this  well.    Me — I  am  too  fat!" 

The  bustling  doctor's  show  of  energy  proved  infec- 
tious. He  and  Herran  unceremoniously  pocketed  their 
revolvers,  leaving  Raoul  at  liberty  to  do  as  he  pleased, 
while  they  looked  about  for  a  way  of  escape. 

Since  he  had  become  suspicious  of  Raoul,  Leighton 
was  inclined  to  trust  the  leadership  of  the  two  South 
Americans.  The  latter,  convinced  that  there  was  no  way 
out  from  this  part  of  the  cave,  determined  to  go  back 
to  the  central  chamber,  hoping  to  find  there  the  entrance 
to  the  tunnel  leading  to  the  outside  world.  They  hit  on 
this  plan  because  they  feared  an  ambush  on  any  of  the 
labyrinthian  trails  leading  off  in  other  unexplored  direc- 
tions.    The  rest  agreeing,  they  set  out  along  the  path 


THE  BLACK  MAGNET  205 

flanked  by  the  grove  of  stalactites,  traveling  at  a  quickei 
pace  but  with  greater  caution  than  before.  Miranda  and 
Herran  marched  ahead  with  revolvers  drawn,  Andrew 
in  the  rear  still  holding  his  pocket-knife  ready  for  action. 
They  had  been  delayed  on  Mrs.  Quayle's  account,  for 
that  lady,  in  spite  of  her  anxiety  to  get  away,  had  re- 
fused to  budge  without  her  jewelry.  But  it  was  not 
easy  to  satisfy  her  demand.  For,  when  the  jewelry  was 
taken  from  its  hiding  place  beneath  a  rock,  it  still 
-  _  showed  the  same  strong  tendency  to  fly  to  the  Black 
tt-:  Magnet.  This  distressed  Mrs.  Quayle,  who  refused  to 
touch  the  treasures  that  she  was  at  the  same  time  loath 
to  part  with.  But  a  compromise  was  finally  effected  by 
tying  all  the  jewelry  securely  around  Andrew's  waist. 
This  arrangement  appeased  the  owner — but  it  gave  an 
uncomfortable  backward  pull  to  every  step  the  school- 
master took,  who  thus  resembled,  in  walking,  a  ship 
sailing  against  the  wind.  This  inconvenience,  however, 
steadily  decreased  as  they  came  out  of  the  disturbing 
region  of  the  Black  Magnet,  until  finally  these  ancient 
heirlooms  of  Mrs.  Quayle's  regained  their  natural  com- 
posure. 

But  there  were  other  things  besides  the  Black  Magnet 
to  interrupt  their  progress.  No  sooner  had  they  gotten 
well  under  way  and  were  congratulating  themselves  on 
their  escape  from  mishap  so  far,  than  they  were  startled 
by  a  wild  and  piercing  strain  of  music,  seeming  to  come 
from  the  grove  of  stalactites  before  which  they  were 
hurrying.  Amazed  by  so  singular  an  interruption,  they 
stopped  short  and  looked  fearfully  about  them.  A  sound 
of  scornful  laughter  blended  with  the  music. 
"Raoul!"  muttered  Leighton. 


2o6  THE  GILDED  MAN 

But  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen  of  the  strange  Amer- 
ican whose  mocking  laughter  they  were  sure,  neverthe- 
less, they  had  heard.  Then  the  music  grew  louder  and 
louder,  as  if  the  musicians  were  steadily  approaching  in 
their  direction.  The  music  itself  was  subtly  different,  in 
tone  and  pitch,  from  anything  played  in  the  outside 
world.  The  high  notes  evidently  came  from  wind  in- 
struments, but  of  a  unique  quality  and  caliber.  Mingling 
with  these  notes,  and  sustaining  the  bass,  were  the  heavy 
beatings  of  drums  of  the  kind  still  used,  although  deeper 
and  mellower,  by  the  native  Indians  in  their  festivals. 

The  melody  produced — if  it  could  be  called  a  melody 
— was  of  an  extraordinary  character.  Its  effect,  its  charm 
— for  it  had  unmistakable  charm — was  quite  impossible  to 
define.  In  some  respects  it  resembled  the  monotonous 
chantings  peculiar  to  most  primitive  races,  occasionally, 
as  was  customary  with  the  latter,  rising  and  falling,  whole 
octaves  at  a  time,  in  a  wailing  key.  In  the  main,  it 
carried  a  sort  of  theme,  emotional  and  inspiring,  that 
was  far  too  complex  to  be  attributed  to  the  uncultivated 
musical  taste  common  to  savagery.  There  was  an 
exultant  swing  to  the  measure,  a  lilting  cadence  that 
betrayed  a  fine  esthetic  sense,  a  rich  imagination  coupled 
with  the  simplicity  and  freedom  that  has  not  felt  the 
pressure,  except  very  remotely,  of  our  western  civili- 
zation. Such  music  was  good  to  listen  to — and  under 
ordinary  circumstances  the  explorers  would  have  been 
content  to  listen  and  nothing  more.  But  curiosity,  and 
some  remnant  of  fear  the  lulling  influence  of  the  music 
had  not  dissipated,  kept  them  on  the  alert.  Their  fate 
depended,  they  felt,  on  these  musicians.  They  must 
find  out  who  they  were  before  it  was  too  late  to  retreat. 


THE  BLACK  MAGNET  207 

And  then — presently — through  the  clustering  green  and 
white  stems  of  the  stalactites,  they  caught  sight  of  them. 

They  were  over  twenty  in  number,  moving,  as  nearly 
as  the  unevenness  of  the  ground  would  permit,  in  time 
to  the  choral  march  they  were  playing.  At  sight  of 
them  Mrs.  Quayle  didn't  know  whether  to  be  pleased 
or  terrified.  For  the  music  was  such  an  enchanting, 
soothing  sort  of  thing,  and  the  players  so  mild,  benignant 
of  aspect,  anything  like  fear  seemed  out  of  place.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  strange  instruments  they  carried, 
their  outlandish  dress,  the  whole  effect  of  them,  in  a 
way,  was  distinctly  unearthly,  supernatural — and  Mrs. 
Quayle  drew  the  line  at  the  supernatural.  So,  she  ended 
by  being  simply  amazed  beyond  measure — and  her  com- 
panions shared  her  feelings  in  lessening  degree.  Miranda 
and  Herran,  dumbfounded  by  the  apparition,  forgot  to 
handle  their  revolvers  in  the  warlike  fashion  they  had 
intended  with  the  first  approach  of  a  foe;  Andrew 
gaped  in  an  open-mouthed  sort  of  dream,  during  which 
his  pocket-knife  came  imminently  near  doing  fatal  exe- 
cution upon  himself,  while  Una  and  Leighton,  forgetting 
their  anxiety,  were  lost  in  admiration  of  the  delicious 
music  and  of  the  spectacle  before  them. 

One  and  all  of  this  singular  band  of  cavemen  were 
clothed  after  the  fashion  described  by  Andrew.  Each 
wore  a  loose  white  mantle,  or  toga,  that  draped  the 
figure  in  voluminous  folds,  adding  to  the  grace  and  free- 
dom of  movement  with  which  they  kept  time  to  the 
music.  Their  feet  were  shod  with  sandals,  their  heads 
encircled  with  bands  of  white  cloth  from  the  flying  ends 
of  which  hung  ornaments  of  gold  and  emerald.  The 
musical  instruments  upon  which  they  played  were  long, 


2o8  THE  GILDED  MAN 

slender  tubes,  curving  upward  at  the  extremity,  of  a 
metal  that  glittered  and  sparkled  like  the  purest  gold. 

Most  singular  of  all  was  the  light  that  each  of  these 
musicians  carried.  This  light  came  from  neither  torch 
nor  lantern,  but  radiated  in  sparks  and  flashes  from  oval 
disks  worn,  jewel-wise,  on  the  breast.  By  what  fuel 
these  incandescent  fires  were  fed  was  not  apparent.  They 
burned  with  a  clear  white  brilliance,  illuminating  each 
flowing  figure  with  startling  vividness,  and  filling  the 
beholder,  ignorant  of  their  nature,  with  wonder  at  their 
admirable  adaptability  to  the  needs  of  a  subterranean 
world. 

To  Leighton  these  strange  lights  were  much  more 
mystifying  than  all  the  rest  of  the  apparition — for  as 
yet  it  was  difficult  to  regard  the  approaching  throng  as 
being  anything  more  real  than  an  apparition  that  one 
expects  to  have  vanish  away  almost  as  soon  as  it  makes 
its  appearance.  But  these  musicians,  weird  and  un- 
earthly though  they  first  seemed  when  seen  at  a  distance, 
as  they  drew  nearer,  proved  to  be  substantial,  flesh-and- 
blood  human  beings  right  enough.  Their  dark  skins 
and  aquiline  features  gave  evidence,  for  one  thing,  that 
they  were  of  Indian  origin  and  not  inhabitants  of  the 
remote,  invisible  fairyland  that  they  appeared  to  the 
fervid  imaginations  of  some  of  Leighton's  companions. 
Doubtless,  argued  the  savant,  they  were  a  band  of  revel- 
ers— or  bandits — from  the  city  to  whom  the  secrets  of 
the  cave  were  familiar.  But  where  they  had  picked  up 
such  extraordinary  means  for  the  illumination  of  their 
merry-making  was  more  than  he  could  fathom.  Lights? 
They  were  unlike  any  lights  he  had  ever  heard  of.  All 
that  he  could  make  of  it  was  that  these  illuminated  disks 


THE  BLACK  MAGNET  209 

belonged  to  the  marvels  of  a  hitherto  unknown  world  of 
science,  marvels  among  which  he  counted  the  Black 
Magnet  and — possibly — that  disappearing  wall  at  the 
entrance  to  the  cave. 

As  these  people  showed  no  sign  of  hostility,  the  ex- 
plorers began  to  hope  that  through  them  they  would 
win  their  way  out  of  the  cave.  Certainly,  they  were 
worth  cultivating  with  this  end  in  view.  Hence,  Miranda 
and  Herran  looked  stealthily  at  their  revolvers  and 
restored  them  as  quickly  as  possible  to  their  hip-pockets, 
while  such  a  burst  of  confidence  seized  Mrs.  Quayle  that 
she  prepared  and  was  actually  seen  to  exhibit  one  of  her 
most  ingratiating  smiles  for  the  benefit  of  the  approach- 
ing Indians,  at  the  same  time  expressing  in  a  loud  voice 
to  Una  her  approval  of  their  music. 

This  pleasant  feeling,  however,  that  they  were  about 
to  regain  their  liberty  did  not  last  long.  The  Indians, 
although  showing  no  unfriendliness,  gave  unmistakable 
evidence  that  they  meant  to  control  the  movements  of 
the  explorers.  Still  playing  on  their  trumpets  and  beat- 
ing solemnly  on  their  drums,  they  marched  around  them, 
bowing  courteously  enough,  but  intimating  at  the  same 
time  that  they  were  acting  upon  a  definite  plan  that 
could  not  be  interfered  with.  Somewhat  dashed  by 
this  singular  behavior,  which  was  the  more  difficult  to 
meet  just  because  it  lacked  outward  menace,  the  ex- 
plorers conferred  hastily  together,  hoping  to  hit  on 
a  safe  line  of  action.  The  men  of  the  party,  suspicious 
of  the  friendly  attitude  assumed  by  the  Indians,  favored 
immediate  resistance.  Their  first  flush  of  confidence  in 
them  was  gone.  Herran  and  Miranda,  especially,  were 
doubtful  of  the  intentions  of  these  strange  people.    From 


210  THE  GILDED  MAN 

whatever  motive,  it  seemed  to  them  that  the  latter  had 
deliberately  planned  their  capture,  evidently  carr)dng 
out  in  this  the  orders  of  some  one  in  authority  over  them. 
That  these  orders  might  come  from  Raoul  Arthur  was 
their  principal  cause  for  alarm.  The  departure  of  the 
American  miner,  under  every  appearance  of  treachery, 
marked  him  out  as  one  to  be  feared.  He  was  not,  it  is 
true,  among  the  Indians  who  were  surrounding  them  in 
their  glittering  line  of  dancers,  but  his  absence  was  not 
proof  that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  this  odd  demon- 
stration. But — ^how  resist  a  party  so  superior  to  their 
own  in  number,  one  that  had  already  gained  an  obvious 
advantage  of  position  over  them.  Leighton  was  doubtful 
what  to  do;  Andrew  was  helpless;  Mrs.  Quayle  was  tem- 
porarily lost  in  admiration  of  the  picturesque  circle  of 
dancing  figures,  all  regarding  her  with  gratifying  ami- 
ability. Una  alone  insisted  that  the  friendliness  of  the 
Indians  was  genuine,  and  that  their  own  safety  depended 
on  obeying  them.  As  a  compromise  it  was  decided  to 
talk  to  these  people — to  find  out  what  they  were  after. 
For  this  diplomatic  duty  Miranda  and  Herran  were 
chosen. 

Although  the  energetic  little  doctor  was  certainly  not 
gifted  with  an  unusual  amount  of  tact,  he  had  at  least 
the  merit  of  directness,  and  lost  no  time  in  calling  the 
attention  of  the  dancers  to  his  desire  to  come  to  an  under- 
standing with  them. 

"Do  you  talk  Spanish?"  he  shouted  brusquely  in  that 
language. 

"Surely,  Senor  Doctor,"  gravely  replied  a  tall  per- 
sonage whose  dignity  of  bearing  and  the  fact  that  the 
border  of  his  flowing  toga  was  distinguished  by  a  deco- 


THE  BLACK  MAGNET  211 

rative  design  in  embroidered  gold  indicated  his  superior- 
ity in  rank  over  his  comrades.  "Surely,  some  of  us  talk 
Spanish." 

Having  given  this  assurance,  the  speaker  checked  the 
music  and  dancing  of  the  others  and  stood,  with  the  air 
of  one  accustomed  to  ceremonious  usage,  waiting  to  hear 
further  from  Miranda. 

"Yes,  I  am  doctor,  famous  doctor,"  said  the  latter, 
bustling  up  to  the  speaker  and  looking  him  over  as  if  he 
were  about  to  claim  him  for  medical  purposes.  "I  cure 
thousands  and  thousands  with  my  pills.  But  how  you 
know  I  am  doctor?" 

The  Indian  smiled,  inclining  his  head  graciously  before 
answering. 

"Doctor  Miranda  is  so  famous  every  one  knows  him." 

Ordinarily  the  vanity  of  Miranda  was  easily  touched, 
but  just  now  he  was  too  suspicious  to  be  beguiled  by  the 
compliment. 

"Caramba!"  he  snorted;  "and  who  are  you?" 

"I  am  Anitoo." 

"That  is  not  Spanish,"  said  Miranda  sharply. 

"I  am  not  Spanish,"  replied  Anitoo  stiffly.  "I  come 
from  an  ancient  race  that  ruled  here  long  before  there 
were  any  Spaniards." 

"Well,  Senor  Anitoo — you  say  it  is  Anitoo? — that 
may  be.  You  are  Indian — Chibcha  Indian,  perhaps — 
and  not  Spanish,  not  Colombian.  But  what  do  you  make 
in  this  cave?" 

Anitoo  smiled  broadly. 

"This  is  the  home  of  my  people  for  many  centuries," 
he  said.  "And  now,  suppose  I  ask  you  a  question.  What 
do  you  make  in  this  cave?" 


XV 


AT  THE   SIGN  OF   THE   CONDOR 

THERE  is  no  doubt  about  it;  Miranda  had  much 
the  worst  of  it  in  his  tilt  with  Anitoo.  The  Indian's 
point  blank  question  as  to  why  the  explorers  were  in  the 
cave  was  not  easily  answered.  The  more  Miranda 
thought  it  over  the  less  able  was  he  to  discover — or  at 
least  explain — ^just  that  very  thing:  why  he  and  his  com- 
panions were  there.  To  say  they  were  looking  in  a  cave 
on  the  Bogota  plateau  for  a  man  who  had  disappeared 
many  miles  away  on  the  Honda  road  sounded  rather 
unreasonable,  now  that  he  looked  at  it  from  the  stand- 
point of  a  stranger;  while  to  recall  the  story  of  foul 
play  that  linked  this  place  with  David's  disappearance 
years  ago  seemed,  under  the  circumstances,  dangerous 
even  to  the  impetuous  Miranda.  So,  he  shrugged  his 
shoulders  and  resorted  to  a  more  evasive  reply  than  was 
his  custom. 

"We  come  for  a  picnic,  and  we  want  to  get  out — that 
is  all." 

Anitoo  again  smiled  broadly,  yet  with  the  subtle  sug- 
gestion of  holding  in  reserve  an  unuttered  fund  of  wis- 
dom that  comes  so  naturally  with  the  people  of  his  race. 

"That  is  all?" 

"We  look  for  one  friend  who  is  lost.    Then,  we  come 

212 


AT  THE  SIGN  OF  THE  CONDOR        213 

with  another  who  has  gone.  He  is  one  canaille!  You 
have  seen  him?" 

"Ah!"  murmured  Anitoo,  half  to  himself.  "What  is 
his  name?    What  is  he  like?" 

"He  is  one  Yankee.    He  is  called  Senor  Don  Raoul 

Arthur.    He  look — well,   he   look   like   this "   and 

Miranda  gave  an  exaggerated  example  of  Raoul 's  rolling 
and  twitching  eyes. 

"So,  he  is  here!"  said  Anitoo,  startled,  apparently,  by 
the  information  and  amused  by  the  grotesque  lesson  in 
optics  given  by  the  doctor.  Miranda,  on  the  other  hand, 
gathered  that  Anitoo  disliked  Raoul — and  this  pleased 
him  immensely.  But  he  could  get  nothing  more  from 
the  Indian  who,  although  still  friendly,  began  to  show 
signs  of  impatience,  talking  earnestly  to  his  followers  in  a 
language  unintelligible  to  Miranda  and  Herran. 

On  both  sides  there  was  evident  uneasiness;  and  when 
Anitoo,  in  a  tone  that  sounded  disagreeably  like  a  com- 
mand, told  the  explorers  that  they  could  not  continue 
their  tour  of  the  cave  unattended  by  them,  things  seemed 
to  come  to  a  climax.  Miranda  expostulated,  the  others 
grumbled  and  talked  of  resistance.  But  Anitoo  was  in- 
flexible, insisting,  all  the  while,  that  there  was  nothing 
unfriendly  in  his  attitude.  He  reminded  them  that  they 
could  not  possibly  find  their  way  out  of  the  cave  without 
his  guidance.  Miranda  jumped  at  this  hint  of  a  rescue, 
but  was  again  unable  to  extract  a  definite  promise  from 
Anitoo. 

"We  will  first  show  the  Senores  some  of  the  wonders  of 
the  Guatavita  kingdom,"  said  the  smiling  Indian. 

"We  don't  want  to  see  any  more,"  said  Miranda  em- 
phatically.   "We  have  seen  enough." 


214  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"Nol  Nol"  continued  Anitoo.  "Whoever  comes  so 
far  as  this  must  see  our  queen  before  he  goes  away." 

"A  queen!  A  kingdom  in  a  cave!  But  that  is  im- 
possible!" 

"I  like  his  offer,"  interposed  Leighton,  who  under- 
stood enough  to  catch  the  meaning  of  this  strange  pro- 
posal. "Anitoo  seems  honest.  We  have  lost  our  way. 
If  he  has  a  queen  and  a  kingdom  to  show  us,  they  may 
be  worth  seeing.  We  can  be  no  worse  off,  certainly,  for 
seeing  them." 

"Once  in  the  land  of  goblins  and  fairies,"  remarked 
Una,  "queens  and  kingdoms  are  a  matter  of  course." 

"It  is  some  idle  mummery,  I  suppose,"  added  Leigh- 
ton;  "we  are  too  near  civilization  for  anything  else.  All 
the  same,  these  lanterns — or  whatever  you  call  them — 
that  they  carry,  are  worth  knowing  more  about." 

"What  are  they?" 

"I  would  give  a  good  deal  to  know." 

"Well,  Senor,"  said  Anitoo  impatiently,  "you  will  come 
with  us?" 

Without  waiting  for  Miranda,  who  seemed  reluctant 
to  place  himself  in  the  Indian's  power  more  than  he  could 
help,  Leighton  bowed  assent. 

"And  this  Senor  Arthur?"  inquired  Anitoo. 

"He  has  gone,"  replied  Miranda  promptly.  "He  will 
not  come  again." 

"Perhaps,"  said  Anitoo  vaguely. 

At  his  signal  the  Indians  lifted  the  curved  trumpets 
to  their  lips,  the  drums  were  beaten  and,  to  the  same 
curious  spirited  music  that  had  heralded  their  approach 
— half  march,  half  dance — they  moved  off,  the  explorers 
in  their  midst,  down  the  path  flanked  by  the  forest  of 


AT  THE  SIGN  OF  THE  CONDOR         215 

stalactites,  to  the  great  entrance  chamber  whence,  after 
finishing  their  hasty  meal,  the  "picknickers"  had  first 
started  on  their  journey  of  discovery. 

The  friendly  bearing  of  Anitoo  and  the  other  cavemen 
did  not  fail  to  impress  the  explorers  favorably,  dispelling 
whatever  suspicions  they  might  have  had  in  the  begin- 
ning, and  giving  them  a  taste  of  real  enjoyment  in  their 
adventure.  All  had  this  feeling  of  security  except 
Miranda  and  Herran.  The  two  South  Americans,  how- 
ever, were  less  easily  moved.  Instead  of  sharing  Una's 
and  Mrs.  Quayle's  admiration  of  the  picturesque  appear- 
ance of  their  guides,  they  grumbled  something  to  the  effect 
that  it  was  a  lot  of  meaningless  foolery.  This  skep- 
tical attitude  grew  to  open  disapproval  when,  having 
reached  the  central  rock  where  they  had  taken  their 
meal  in  the  main  cavern,  the  Indians,  instead  of  proceed- 
ing toward  the  entrance  to  the  tunnel  that  had  been  so 
mysteriously  lost,  kept  on  in  the  opposite  direction.  This 
meant  that  they  were  now  to  explore  an  entirely  new, 
unknown  region ;  and  the  possibilities  that  awaited  them, 
with  such  uncommunicative  guides,  in  the  gloomy  depths 
that  stretched  before  them,  stirred  up  something  of  a 
mutinous  spirit  in  the  two  South  Americans.  But  their 
protests  were  futile.  Without  halting  his  rhythmic  march, 
Anitoo  smiled  courteously  at  their  objections,  merely  re- 
peating his  intention  of  taking  them  to  "the  queen." 
As  this  was  all  he  would  say,  they  were  compelled  to 
make  the  best  of  the  vague  indication  of  the  course  they 
were  following.  The  others  continued  to  enjoy  the  oddity 
of  the  adventure.  The  enlivening  strains  of  music,  the 
gala  costumes  of  the  Indians — all  seemed  part  of  a  curi- 
ous carnival  the  purpose  of  which  was  unknown  to  them. 


2i6  THE  GILDED  MAN 

The  novelty  was  kept  up  by  the  strange  scenes  through 
which  they  were  passing;  it  reached  its  climax  at  the 
further  wall  of  the  great  central  chamber. 

So  far,  the  natural  features  of  the  cave  had  absorbed 
their  attention;  now  they  were  confronted  with  a  series 
of  Titanic  specimens  of  human  architecture  as  amazing 
in  design  as  they  were  unexpected.  It  is  misleading, 
perhaps,  to  describe  this  architecture  as  the  product  of 
human  genius,  because  in  line,  material,  and  general  plan 
it  followed  closely  the  pattern  and  the  workmanship  of 
the  cave  itself.  Man  had  here  adopted  the  half  finished 
designs  of  nature  and  completed  them  in  a  way  that  car- 
ried out  his  own  ends.  Thus,  the  gradually  widening 
trail  followed  by  Anitoo  and  his  band  of  musicians  made 
toward  a  great  archway  that  swept  upward  in  a  glistening 
half  circle  of  white  stone.  In  the  center  of  this  rounded 
arch,  twenty-five  feet  from  the  ground,  gleamed  a  huge 
round  tablet  upon  whose  smooth  white  surface  could  be 
distinguished  a  series  of  engraved  characters.  These 
characters,  outlined  in  gold,  were  immediately  recognized 
by  General  Herran  as  similar  in  design  to  the  picture- 
v/riting,  presumably  of  Chibcha  origin,  that  covered  a 
rocky  promontory  rising  above  one  of  the  foothills  skirting 
the  Bogota  tableland. 

The  mighty  portal  to  which  this  tablet  formed  the  key- 
stone, was  only  partially  the  work  of  man.  Here  the 
elemental  forces  that  originally  hollowed  out  the  great 
central  chamber  through  which  the  explorers  had  passed, 
had  encountered  a  granitic  rock  effectually  resisting  their 
ravages.  Hence,  the  narrowing  of  the  passage-way  to 
the  diameter  of  the  half-circle  described  by  the  white 
arch,  and  hence  the  opportunity  that  had  been  seized  by 


AT  THE  SIGN  OF  THE  CONDOR         217 

an  aboriginal  race  of  men  to  complete  and  embellish  what 
nature  had  so  nobly  planned.  The  sides  of  the  arch 
rose  in  majestic  columns,  shaped  and  smoothed  to  the 
semblance  of  such  pillars  as  those  used  in  the  massive 
temples  of  ancient  Egypt;  and,  still  bearing  out  this 
similarity,  each  of  these  pillars  stood  at  the  head  of  a 
long  row  that  stretched  away  indefinitely  in  the  darkness 
beyond.  The  curve  of  the  arch  overhead  had  also  fol- 
lowed the  simplest  of  lines,  but  with  so  glowing  a  sym- 
metry that  the  beholder  yielded  to  the  conviction  that 
here,  whether  of  Nature's  design  or  Man's,  he  stood  on 
the  threshold  of  a  realm  wherein  were  garnered  treasures 
of  art  and  science  unique  in  the  world's  history.  Besides 
the  golden  characters  engraved  on  the  keystone  of  this 
gigantic  portal  there  was  but  one  attempt  at  sculptural 
adornment.  This  was  the  rudely  carved  head  of  a  con- 
dor, made  to  curve  downward  from  the  central  tablet  of 
the  arch,  as  if  the  sleepless  duty  had  been  given  to  this 
winged  monarch  of  the  Andes  of  inspecting  all  who  passed 
beneath  its  lofty  eyrie. 

Before  this  imposing  structure  the  explorers  paused  in 
astonishment.  Anitoo  smiled,  somewhat  disdainfully, 
and  signed  to  them  to  enter.  This  they  were  loath  to 
do  until  they  could  learn  more  definitely  whither  the 
cavemen  were  leading  them. 

"Senores,"  remonstrated  Anitoo,  "when  you  were  lost 
in  this  cave,  I  came  to  your  rescue.  Now,  you  must 
follow  me." 

"That  is  very  good,"  said  Miranda  irritably.  "We 
have  enough  of  this  cave.    We  want  to  go  out." 

"Follow  me,"  persisted  Anitoo. 

"You  take  us  out?" 


2i8  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"I  take  you  to  the  queen,"  he  retorted. 

"Why  we  go  to  your  queen?  We  make  nothing  with 
your  queen." 

"Ah,  but  perhaps  she  make  something  with  you." 

"Caramba!     What  she  make  with  me?" 

"You  will  see." 

The  explorers  looked  at  each  other  helplessly.  One 
thing  was  evident — the  Indians  had  no  intention  of  part- 
ing with  them.  But  they  could  not  tell  whether  they 
were  hostile  or  friendly.  They  were  not  treated  as  cap- 
tives; but  they  felt  that  any  attempt  to  escape  would  be 
quickly  frustrated.  They  were  too  far  outnumbered  by 
the  cavemen  to  make  resistance  possible.  Leighton  there- 
fore decided  that  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  submission. 
Upon  this  the  Indians  gave  a  grunt  of  satisfaction,  and 
Anitoo  signaled  to  advance,  pointing  upward  to  the  Sign 
of  the  Condor. 

But  the  signal  came  too  late. 

Out  of  the  darkness,  from  the  portion  of  the  cave  they 
had  just  left,  rose  a  yell  of  defiance,  followed  by  a  flight 
of  arrows  and  a  volley  of  pistol  shots.  Running  towards 
them,  but  still  a  good  distance  off,  they  could  see  a 
huddle  of  figures,  dimly  lighted  by  a  few  torches  of  wood, 
interspersed  with  lanterns  similar  to  those  used  by  the 
explorers.  There  was  no  time  to  make  out  who  the 
enemy  was.  Evidently  they  planned  to  carry  things  be- 
fore them  by  the  swiftness  of  their  attack,  hoping  to 
catch  the  cavemen  off  their  guard.  They  went  at  it  pell- 
mell,  discharging  their  missiles  as  they  ran — but  with 
deadly  enough  aim  nevertheless.  One  Indian  of  Anitoo's 
party  fell,  struck  down  by  an  arrow.  His  comrades,  en- 
raged by  this,  formed  a  close  line  of  battle  around  him, 


AT  THE  SIGN  OF  THE  CONDOR         219 

taking,  as  they  did  so,  from  the  folds  of  their  togas  cer- 
tain innocent  looking  objects,  apparently  long  metal  tubes, 
which  they  pointed  at  their  assailants.  The  explorers 
failed  to  recognize  these  implements  at  first;  then,  as  the 
Indians  put  them  to  their  mouths,  they  realized  that  they 
were  nothing  more  nor  less  than  blowpipes,  weapons  used 
to-day  only  by  the  most  primitive  races.  But  the  cave- 
men handled  these  weapons  skillfully,  pouring  a  goodly 
shower  of  darts  into  the  turbulent  throng  advancing  to 
meet  them.  As  the  hail  of  arrows  and  shooting  of  pis- 
tols continued,  however,  it  was  evident  that  the  damage 
inflicted  by  the  blowpipes  was  not  enough  to  check  the 
approach  of  the  enemy,  who  exceeded  the  cavemen  in 
numbers  and  were  anxious  to  engage  them  at  close  quar- 
ters. This  Anitoo  determined  to  prevent.  Shouting  to 
his  men,  he  urged  them  to  retreat  within  the  archway  be- 
fore which  they  were  fighting,  a  command  they  refused 
to  obey,  infuriated  as  they  were  by  the  loss  of  several  of 
their  number.  Their  assailants,  steadily  pressing  on, 
were  soon  near  enough  to  give  the  cavemen  the  desired 
opportunity.  Blowguns,  bows  and  arrows  were  cast 
aside,  and  they  jumped  into  a  hand-to-hand  fight,  with 
short  pikes  and  such  weapons  as  chance  provided. 

It  was  then  that  the  explorers  seemed  to  reach  the 
utmost  limit  of  their  misfortunes.  Except  for  Andrew's 
pocket-knife  and  the  revolvers  of  Herran  and  Miranda, 
they  were  without  weapons,  and  thus  practically  defense- 
less in  the  thick  of  a  combat  that  at  every  moment 
gained  in  intensity.  They  were  bewildered  by  the  flash- 
ing lights  of  the  torches,  and  kept  getting  in  the  way  of 
Anitoo's  men  at  the  most  inopportune  times.  Naturally, 
General  Herran,  as  the  only  one  among  them  who  had 


220  THE  GILDED  MAN 

been  in  actual  military  service,  did  his  best  to  keep  the 
others  in  some  sort  of  order;  but  his  protests  and  com- 
mands, unintelligible  to  all  but  Miranda,  went  for  very 
little.  In  vain  he  looked  for  some  sheltered  corner  into 
which  he  could  withdraw  his  little  party;  but  the  fierce 
fighting  all  around  them  shut  off  any  such  easy  way  of 
escape.  There  seemed  to  be  nothing  to  do  but  stay 
where  they  were — and  be  shot,  as  Mrs.  Quayle  hysteri- 
cally put  it.  And  the  shooting  certainly  increased  enough 
in  volume  every  moment  to  warrant  that  lady's  dismal 
view  of  the  matter. 

But  Herran,  although  fighting  in  caves  was  quite  out 
of  his  line,  was  not  the  kind  of  soldier  to  give  up  in 
despair — even  with  two  women  on  his  hands  and  three 
men  who  were  quite  as  inexperienced  and  helpless  in  war- 
fare as  the  women.  The  fiasco  of  Panama  still  rankled 
in  his  soul,  and  he  resolved  this  time  to  let  as  few  of  the 
enemy  escape  him  as  possible.  It  was  a  serious  business, 
but — at  least  he  had  a  revolver,  and  he  intended  to  use  it. 

Plunging  ahead  of  the  others  into  the  thick  of  the  mob 
that  faced  him,  he  shot  right  and  left,  and — according 
to  Miranda,  who  watched  the  affair  delightedly — every 
shot  found  its  mark.  This  was  all  very  well,  and  cheer- 
ing enough  to  the  explorers.  It  looked,  indeed,  for  the 
moment,  as  if  the  tide  of  battle  was  about  to  be  turned 
in  their  favor  by  the  Hero  of  Panama.  But  then,  all 
of  a  sudden,  as  was  bound  to  happen,  the  General's  car- 
tridges gave  out,  leaving  him  an  animated  sort  of  target 
in  the  midst  of  the  men  he  had  been  attacking  with  such 
ferocity.  There  were  cries  of  dismay  from  those  who 
had  been  watching  his  brave  exploit,  a  roar  of  rage  from 
Miranda,  who  rushed  forward,  revolver  in  hand,  to  de- 


AT  THE  SIGN  OF  THE  CONDOR         221 

fend  his  old  comrade.  But  Miranda  was  too  late.  A 
burly  caveman,  one  of  those  who  had  borne  the  brunt  of 
Herran's  onslaught,  seeing  the  latter's  plight,  whirled 
aloft  a  huge  club  that  he  carried  and  brought  it  down 
with  fatal  effect  upon  the  General's  head.  It  was  a 
Homeric  blow,  and  the  fall  of  the  hero  under  it,  sung 
in  epic  verse,  would  be  described  as  the  crashing  to  earth 
of  a  monarch  of  the  forest,  a  bull,  a  lion,  or  something 
equally  majestic  and  thunderous. 

But  the  victor  in  this,  deadly  encounter  had  no  time  to 
enjoy  his  triumph.  Miranda,  not  able  to  ward  off  the 
terrible  blow  that  he  saw  descending  upon  his  friend,  at 
least  succeeded  in  inflicting  mortal  punishment  upon  the 
offending  caveman  who,  before  he  could  raise  his  club 
to  his  shoulder  again,  received  the  full  contents  of  the 
Doctor's  revolver. 

It  was  the  first — and  probably  the  last — time  that 
Miranda  could  count  himself  a  conqueror  on  the  field  of 
battle.  His  exultation,  however,  was  short-lived.  Not 
only  had  he  to  bewail  the  loss  of  Herran,  a  good  friend 
and  a  brave  leader,  but  the  odds  in  the  combat  before 
him  were  going  so  unmistakably  against  Anitoo  and  his 
men,  the  fighting  had  become  so  widespread  and  des- 
perate, that  the  safety  of  the  explorers  seemed,  every 
moment,  more  and  more  a  matter  for  miracles.  As  noth- 
ing further  could  be  done  with  an  empty  revolver, 
Miranda  shrugged  his  shoulders,  threw  away  his  now 
harmless  weapon  and,  turning  hastily  to  his  compan- 
ions, ordered  them  to  put  out  their  torches,  fall  flat 
upon  their  faces  where  they  stood,  and  to  stay  motionless 
in  that  position  until  the  fortunes  of  the  battle  were  de- 
cided.   This  they  all  did,  some  with  an  almost  incon- 


222  THE  GILDED  MAN 

ceivable  promptness — and  to  any  one  who  might  be  look- 
ing on  it  must  have  appeared  that  the  enemy  had  over- 
thrown this  little  group  of  people  before  them  with  one 
well  directed  discharge  of  their  weapons. 

In  the  kind  of  warfare  that  now  was  raging,  Anitoo's 
cavemen,  on  account  of  their  lack  of  numbers  and  deficient 
training,  were  unquestionably  getting  the  worst  of  it. 
Their  white  togas,  and  the  flashing  lights  that  they  wore, 
made  their  escape  difficult ;  obviously  it  would  have  fared 
badly  for  them  if  they  had  been  left  to  fight  their  battle 
out  alone.  But  Anitoo  was  taking  no  unnecessary 
chances.  Fearing  for  his  own  men  from  the  very  first, 
he  had  dispatched  a  messenger  into  that  unknown  region 
of  the  cave  lying  beyond  the  Condor  Gate.  There  was 
more,  indeed,  than  the  fate  of  his  own  men  at  stake.  He 
knew  that  the  majority  of  the  enemy  were  of  his  own 
race,  and  that  with  them  were  associated  two  or  three 
men  from  the  outside  world  whose  presence  there, 
under  such  circumstances,  proved  the  existence  of  a  for- 
midable conspiracy  against  that  subterranean  realm,  of 
which  he  had  spoken  vaguely  to  the  explorers,  and  to 
which  he  belonged.  The  cavemen  he  had  with  him,  al- 
though brave  enough,  were  undisciplined  and  without 
military  experience.  They  could  make  but  a  poor  de- 
fense against  an  attack  directed  by  leaders  trained  in  the 
rough  school  of  the  guerilla.  All  this  Anitoo  knew,  and 
the  reinforcements  for  which  he  had  sent  arrived  barely 
in  time  to  save  his  little  party  from  being  completely 
wiped  out.  But,  fortunately  for  him,  they  did  arrive 
in  time.  With  a  confused  din  of  war  cries  and  trumpet- 
ings,  a  flash  of  mysterious  torches,  waving  of  banners, 
brandishing  of  pipes  and  blowguns,  a  body  of  men,  sud- 


AT  THE  SIGN  OF  THE  CONDOR         223 

denly  appearing  out  of  the  dim  recesses  of  the  cave, 
rushed,  several  hundred  strong,  upon  the  encircling 
throng  of  invaders.  The  result  was  decisive.  The 
rebels,  with  victory  almost  in  their  grasp,  were  quickly 
surrounded,  many  of  them  killed,  while  the  few  who 
failed  to  make  their  escape  were  taken  prisoners. 

Among  the  latter  was  one  who  had  played  a  leading 
part  in  the  attack.  He  was  unarmed,  his  clothes  were 
torn,  an  ugly  thrust  from  a  pike  had  slashed  across  his 
face.  But  his  bearing  was  undaunted;  the  dejection  of 
the  vanquished  was  lacking  in  the  composure  with  which 
he  regarded  Anitoo,  before  whom  his  captors  led  him. 

"Well?"  he  asked  scornfully. 

"I  expected  you,  Don  Raoul,"  said  Anitoo. 

The  other  laughed  contemptuously. 

"Why  are  you  here?"  demanded  Anitoo. 

"That  is  a  long  story.  For  one  thing,  your  people  are 
tired  of  living  like  bats  in  the  dark.  With  the  help  of 
Rafael  Segurra,  your  one  great  man,  I  promised  to  free 
them." 

"Instead,  Segurra  is  killed  and  you  are  a  prisoner." 

"Ah!  your  muddle-headed  rabble  have  killed  him,  have 
they?  But,  where  are  my  American  friends?"  he  asked 
abruptly. 

"They  are  here.  One  of  them,  I  think,  was  killed. 
But  he  was  a  Bogotano." 

"I  don't  see  them." 

For  the  first  time  Anitoo  showed  amazement.  He 
called  to  his  men,  he  looked  in  every  possible  and  impos- 
sible place.  The  explorers  were  nowhere  to  be  seen. 
Their  disappearance,  moreover,  was  complicated  by  the 
fact  that  after  the  retreat  of  Anitoo 's  men,  the  great 


224  THE  GILDED  MAN 

portal  under  the  Sign  of  the  Condor  had  been  closed. 
By  this  means  the  outer  region  of  the  cave  had  been  shut 
off,  thus  preventing  the  escape  of  any  of  the  combatants 
in  that  direction.  As  the  Americans  were  not  now  in 
sight,  it  seemed  probable  that  they  were  on  the  other 
side  of  the  stone  gateway — although  there  was  a  faint 
possibility  that  they  had  sought  safety  in  the  unexplored 
portion  of  the  cave  whither  Anitoo  had  been  leading 
them.  Either  way,  their  disappearance  was  certain,  nor 
could  Anitoo  find  out  anything  definite  about  them  from 
his  men.  A  few,  indeed,  remembered  seeing  them  dur- 
ing the  fight,  and  recalled  Herran's  charge,  his  subse- 
quent fall,  and  the  swift  vengeance  brought  upon  his  as- 
sailant by  Miranda.  One  man  declared  that  they  had 
all  been  killed;  but  as  this  was  quite  improbable,  and  as 
the  statement  was  uncorroborated,  it  was  promptly  put 
aside  as  unworthy  of  belief.  The  whole  thing  was  very 
vague.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  every  one  had  been  too 
absorbed  in  the  defeat  of  Segurra  and  his  men  to  look 
after  the  explorers.  Doubtless  the  latter,  it  was  said, 
had  succeeded  in  retreating  into  the  darkness  of  the  outer 
cave.  In  doing  this,  it  is  true,  they  ran  the  chance  of 
falling  into  the  hands  of  Segurra's  men — in  which  case 
they  would  have  been  recaptured  by  Anitoo. 

One  strange  feature  of  their  disappearance  was  that 
the  body  of  Herran  had  apparently  vanished  with  them. 
Anitoo  remembered  the  exact  spot  where  the  explorers 
had  been  stationed  during  the  battle  and,  consequently, 
where  Herran  had  fallen.  But  now,  neither  living  nor  dead 
explorers  could  be  found.  It  seemed  incredible  that 
these  people,  two  of  them  women,  would  have  hampered 
themselves  in  their  flight  with  the  body  of  a  dead  man. 


AT  THE  SIGN  OF  THE  CONDOR         225 

And  yet,  there  was  the  evidence  of  eyewitnesses  to  the 
killing  of  Herran;  there  was  the  spot  where  he  had  fallen 
— and  as  the  body  was  not  there  now,  it  was  practically 
certain  that  the  explorers  had  carried  it  away  with  them. 
In  this  case  they  could  not  have  gone  very  far.  As 
Anitoo  was  particularly  anxious  for  their  capture,  and 
believing  that  they  had  returned  to  the  outer  cave,  where 
they  were  in  danger  of  being  attacked  by  what  was  left 
of  Segurra's  men,  he  sent  most  of  his  troops  after  them, 
remaining  behind  with  Raoul  and  a  few  others  until  their 
return. 

"It  was  to  get  those  strangers  and  bring  them  to  our 
queen,"  he  said,  "that  I  came  out  here." 

"Well,  you  have  lost  them,"  sneered  Raoul.  "But 
you  have  me.    Why  not  take  me  to  your  queen?" 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other  in  silence.  A  faint 
smile  lighted  Anitoo's  usually  immobile  features. 

"Yes,"  he  said;  "at  last  you  will  reach  the  place  you 
have  plotted  against  for  so  many  months.  But  it  wjll 
do  you  no  good." 

"Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  growled  Raoul.  "I  want 
to  see  your  queen " 

"You  shall  see  her.  But  what  can  you  do?  Your 
friend,  Segurra,  the  first  traitor  to  the  Land  of  the  Condor, 
is  dead.    Your  men  are  defeated " 

"Not  all ! "  shouted  Raoul.    "Look  around  you ! " 

With  those  who  knew  him  Anitoo  enjoyed  a  reputation 
for  astuteness  that  had  led  to  his  being  chosen  for  the 
command  of  the  diminutive  army  considered  necessary 
for  the  defense  of  the  Land  of  the  Condor.  He  was 
valiant,  absolutely  trustworthy.  But  he  was  accustomed 
to  deal  only  with  simple  problems,  with  people  of  com- 


226  THE  GILDED  MAN 

paratively  guileless  natures.  Treachery  was  out  of  the 
domain  of  his  experience.  And  now  he  was  to  pay  dearly 
for  the  lack  of  prudence  that  had  allowed  him  to  send 
away,  on  an  indefinite  mission,  the  troops  he  should  have 
kept  to  guard  his  prisoner. 

Startled  by  Raoul's  exultant  cry  Anitoo  seized  a  pike 
from  one  of  the  two  men  who  had  stayed  with  him.  If 
he  had  fallen  into  an  ambush  he  would  at  least  make  a 
brave  fight  to  free  himself.  But  resistance  from  the  first 
was  hopeless.  The  slight  eminence  on  which  he  stood 
with  Raoul  was  surrounded  by  a  score  or  more  men  who 
had  crept  up  on  him,  their  lights  extinguished,  and  pro- 
tected by  the  impenetrable  darkness  of  the  cave.  As 
Anitoo  and  his  two  followers  still  carried  the  mysterious 
torches  that  had  excited  the  wonder  of  the  explorers,  they 
offered  an  excellent  mark  to  their  concealed  antagonists. 
And  now  the  latter,  dimly  visible  on  the  outer  edge  of  the 
circle  of  light  cast  by  these  torches,  jumped  to  their  feet 
and,  with  weapons  poised,  made  a  rush  for  their  victims. 

"So!     Now  for  your  queen!"  yelled  Raoul. 

Anitoo  made  a  desperate  lunge  with  his  pike  at  the 
man  beside  him.  But  the  latter  was  too  quick  for  him. 
Dodging  the  blow,  Raoul  managed  to  wrest  the  pike  from 
his  grasp.  There  was  a  tigerish  struggle  between  the 
two  men,  shouts  of  fury  and  triumph  from  those  looking 
on.  Then,  overpowered  by  the  number  of  his  assailants, 
and  mortally  wounded,  Anitoo  fell  to  the  ground.  He 
had  been  so  certain  of  the  defeat  of  his  antagonists  that 
this  sudden  turn  in  his  fortunes  filled  him,  even  at  the 
approach  of  death,  with  the  gloomiest  forebodings. 

*'Ah!  my  poor  queen — lost!"  he  gasped  with  his  last 
breath. 


AT  THE  SIGN  OF  THE  CONDOR         227 

Raoul  snatched  the  torch  from  the  dead  man's  tunic 
and  waved  it  above  his  head. 

"You  will  be  free  men  now,"  he  cried,  "not  miserable 
bats  in  a  cave!" 

Those  of  his  hearers  who  understood  his  words,  spoken 
in  Spanish,  repeated  them  to  the  others  in  their  own 
language.  There  was  wild  cheering,  in  which  the  two 
followers  of  Anitoo  joined — amazed  at  their  leader's  fate 
— and  then  a  rush  for  the  great  gateway.  But  this  im- 
pulsive movement  of  his  men  did  not  agree  with  Raoul's 
hastily  conceived  plan  of  conquest.  Delighted  by  his 
easily  won  victory,  coming  to  him  in  the  very  hour  of 
defeat,  he  had  no  mind  to  leave  Anitoo 's  hostile  troops  in 
his  rear — especially  as  he  heard  them  approaching  from 
the  outer  cave,  and  could  even  catch  the  first  glimmer  of 
their  torches. 

"Stop!"  he  commanded.  "We  need  these  men.  Bet- 
ter to  have  them  friends  than  enemies.  They  will  come 
with  us.  Some  of  you  warn  them — tell  them  what  has 
happened." 

His  followers,  halted  in  their  eager  flight,  looked  at 
Raoul  in  amazement.  Then,  hurriedly  repeating  to  each 
other  what  he  had  said,  they  suddenly  broke  into  another 
cheer,  while  two  of  their  number,  in  obedience  to  Raoul's 
orders,  ran  towards  the  approaching  troops. 

At  first  the  two  rebels  were  met  with  a  flourish  of 
pikes  and  angry  cries  that  boded  ill  for  their  safety. 
When  they  succeeded  in  making  themselves  heard,  how- 
ever, explaining  what  had  happened  and  pointing  to  the 
dead  body  of  Anitoo  in  confirmation  of  Raoul's  victory, 
the  cavemen  checked  their  hostile  demonstrations,  look- 


228  THE  GILDED  MAN 

ing  from  one  to  the  other  of  the  men  before  them,  and 
then  to  the  little  group  surrounding  Raoul,  in  astonish- 
ment. They  had  the  most  exaggerated  trust  in  Anitoo's 
wisdom  and  prowess;  that  he  could  be  vanquished  by 
any  one  impressed  them  mightily.  The  death  of  their 
leader  was,  indeed,  a  potent  argument  in  favor  of  the 
man  who  had  killed  him.  What  did  this  victorious 
stranger  intend  to  do  now?  they  asked  each  other.  Then 
the  foremost  of  them  put  the  question  to  the  two  rebels, 
who  answered  with  contagious  enthusiasm: 

"He  will  free  us!  The  wealth  of  the  Condor  will  be 
ours!     We  will  have  the  world — not  a  cave — to  live  in!" 

The  instant  effect  of  this  assurance  was  all  that  could 
be  desired.  One  by  one  took  up  the  words  they  had  just 
heard  with  a  shout  of  triumph,  waving  their  weapons  in 
air  and  declaring  that  they  would  follow  this  new-found 
leader  to  the  death.  Then  they  all  broke  into  a  run, 
saluting  Raoul,  when  they  reached  him,  with  the  sub- 
missive gesture  they  were  wont  to  accord  their  superiors. 

Elated  by  the  complete  success  of  his  strategy,  Raoul 
looked  exultantly  at  the  men  prostrate  before  him.  Then 
he  spoke  to  them  sternly. 

"Where  are  the  Americans?"  he  demanded. 

"Gone,"  some  of  them  murmured.  "We  could  not  find 
them." 

"Where  have  they  gone?  They  must  be  near — some- 
where." 

"To  the  queen — they  have  gone  to  the  queen!" 

"Ah,  yes!  to  the  queen!  Follow  quickly!  We  go  to 
the  queen!" 

Raoul 's  words  were  greeted  with  a  cheer.    The  men 


AT  THE  SIGN  OF  THE  CONDOR         229 

rose  to  their  feet  and  all,  at  a  signal  from  their  leader, 
swept  forward  to  the  great  gateway,  shouting  as  they 
ran — 
"To  the  queen  I     To  the  queen!" 


XVI 

NARVA 

TO  return  to  the  explorers,  left  prostrate  on  the  field 
of  battle,  it  must  be  recorded  that,  for  once  in  his 
career,  Miranda,  after  his  first  taste  of  active  fighting, 
and  seeing  how  the  fortunes  of  the  day  were  going  against 
them,  repressed  his  natural  impulsiveness  and  developed 
a  prudence  and  caution  that  would  have  become  a  general 
seasoned  in  strategy. 

"For  me  it  is  not  good  to  be  here,"  he  whispered 
sepulchrally  to  his  companions  as  they  lay  face  down- 
ward about  him.  "We  cannot  fight.  We  have  no  guns. 
We  will  be  kill.    We  must  go! " 

It  was  a  good  summary  of  the  situation.  Every  one 
agreed  to  it,  so  far  as  their  constrained  positions  would 
permit  an  exchange  of  opinions;  but  how  to  act  on 
Miranda's  obviously  excellent  plan  was  not  clear.  If 
they  got  on  their  feet  again,  they  would  probably 
be  shot — and  even  if  the  enemy  failed  to  bring  them 
down  right  away,  they  could  not  make  up  their  minds 
in  which  direction  to  make  their  escape.  To  retrace  their 
steps  into  the  depths  of  the  outer  cave  would  bring  them 
between  two  fires  and,  aside  from  other  tragic  possibili- 
ties, would  certainly  arouse  the  suspicions  of  Anitoo  and 
his  cavemen.  To  seek  safety  in  the  other  direction, 
to  pass  within  the  section  of  the  cave  guarded  by  the 

230 


NARVA  231 

Condor  Gate,  was  to  court  unknown  dangers  in  a  region 
that  loomed  dark  and  mysterious  enough.  It  was  this 
latter  course,  however,  that  Miranda  chose. 

''This  Anitoo  take  us  to  his  queen,"  he  argued.  "Per- 
haps she  is  good  woman.  It  is  better  we  go  alone.  Senor 
Anitoo,  he  come  after." 

So  they  made  up  their  minds  to  set  out  at  once  in 
search  of  this  unknown  queen.  She  might,  or  might  not, 
be  friendly.  But  anyway,  she  would  be  better  than  lying 
on  one's  stomach  between  two  opposing  rows  of  fighting 
'men.  Luckily  for  the  carrying  out  of  their  plan,  they 
had  extinguished  their  torches.  They  were  thus  in  com- 
parative darkness,  hidden  alike  from  friend  and  foe. 
Indeed,  if  any  one  had  been  able  to  see  them  in  their 
present  prostrate  position  they  would  have  been  taken 
for  dead,  and  escaped  further  notice.  This  view  of  the 
situation  becoming  clear  to  Miranda,  he  cautiously  raised 
his  head  and  peered  into  the  darkness  before  him.  A 
few  feet  farther  on  he  could  dimly  make  out  the  body 
of  the  huge  caveman  who  had  fallen  before  his  revolver 
a  few  moments  ago — and  at  the  side  of  the  caveman  lay 
his  victim.  General  Herran.  The  sight  stirred  Miranda's 
grief  for  the  loss  of  his  friend  to  a  fresh  outburst,  leading 
him  to  abandon,  with  one  of  those  impulsive  changes 
characteristic  of  him,  his  plans  for  escape. 

"Ah,  Caramba!"  he  wailed,  with  the  nearest  approach 
to  tears  he  had  ever  been  guilty  of;  "he  was  one  great 
herol  He  was  a  man!  I  not  leave  him!  He  die  for 
me!" 

And  then  he  fell  to  stroking  his  friend's  face — wet  from 
the  blood  pouring  from  his  wounds,  as  he  supposed — 
caressing  him  somewhat  roughly,  indeed,  in  the  vehe- 


232  THE  GILDED  MAN 

mence  of  his  grief,  and  absent-mindedly  tugging  at  his 
great  beard,  as  he  had  so  often  seen  the  General  do  him- 
self. The  more  he  pondered  his  loss,  the  more  doleful  it 
appeared  to  him;  and  this  feeling  grew  until  he  reached 
such  a  pitch  of  pathos  that  he  resolved  never  to  leave 
Herran,  dead  or  alive.  Better  to  die  right  there  with 
him,  he  said,  than  to  abandon  his  mortal  remains  to  the 
canaille  who  had  killed  him. 

These  lamentations  and  melancholy  vows,  however, 
aroused  some  feeble  objections  among  Miranda's  com- 
panions, who  were  growing  restless  in  their  uncom- 
fortable positions,  and  saw  no  relief  in  the  idea  of  staying 
indefinitely  where  they  were.  But  Miranda  paid  no 
heed  to  what  they  said,  except  to  growl  out  an  expletive 
or  two  between  his  wails  of  grief,  and  to  stroke  his  fallen 
hero's  face  with  an  increased  vigor  of  affection.  And 
then,  in  the  midst  of  this  lugubrious  occupation,  he  sud- 
denly jumped  to  his  feet,  regardless  of  whatever  lurking 
enemy  there  might  be  near  him,  and  started  capering 
around  Herran's  body. 

"This  hero,  he  is  not  dead!"  he  cried  in  a  sort  of 
whispered  ecstasy.  "When  I  rub  the  nose  of  him — 
Carambal — he  try  to  breathe!  And  he  cough  and  say 
some  words  in  Spanish!" 

It  was  fortunate  that  the  darkness  was  deep  enough 
to  hide  Miranda  from  observation,  else  his  dancing  figure 
and  the  gestures  of  delight  with  which  he  accompanied 
this  announcement  would  have  brought  upon  him  more 
attention  from  the  enemy  than  might  have  been  to  his 
liking.  Another  fact  in  his  favor,  besides  the  darkness, 
was  that  the  fighting  had  drifted  away  from  this  corner 
of  the  cave,  leaving  the  explorers  quite  alone,  in  an  ob- 


NARVA  233 

scurity  that  shrouded  them  from  danger,  but  that  still 
revealed  to  them  enough  of  the  outlines  of  the  cave  in  the 
distance  to  show  them  where  they  were  and  how  they 
might  best  steer  their  way  in  safety  through  the  Condor 
Gate,  as  Miranda  had  at  first  proposed.  And  now  all 
were  eager  to  corroborate  the  extraordinary  news  that 
Herran  was  still  alive. 

True  to  his  professional  instincts,  Miranda  plumped 
down  on  his  knees  at  the  General's  side,  and  commenced 
a  series  of  probings,  pummelings  and  rubbings  in  his 
search  for  wounds,  mortal  or  otherwise.  He  worked 
with  his  usual  feverish  haste,  and  it  was  not  long  before 
his  activities  drew  from  Herran  protests  that  became 
more  and  more  distinct  and  emphatic.  Then  Miranda 
remembered  that  he  had  seen  the  caveman's  club  descend 
upon  the  General's  head,  so  that  if  there  were  any 
wounds  to  be  attended  to  they  would  be  in  that  part  of 
his  anatomy  and  nowhere  else.  And  there,  sure  enough, 
under  Herran's  battered  hat  and  his  smashed  miner's 
lamp,  was  a  massive  lump  that  testified  to  the  magnitude 
of  the  blow  that  had  crumpled  him  up.  Indeed,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  hat  and  the  lamp,  serving  in  this  case  as  a 
buffer,  even  Herran's  iron  skull  must  have  yielded  under 
the  weight  of  the  caveman's  attack. 

At  first  Miranda  thought  that  the  skull  surely  was 
fractured,  and  thereupon  investigated  the  lump  on  top 
of  it.  This  he  did  with  so  much  earnestness  and  nicety 
of  detail  that  he  was  soon  rewarded  by  a  series  of  such 
vigorous  oaths  and  threats  as  to  leave  no  doubt  in  his 
mind  of  his  victim's  ability  to  look  out  for  himself. 

"He's  all  right,  this  General  of  Panama  1"  he  exclaimed 
gleefully.    "His  brains  is  not  smashed.    But  perhaps  he 


234  THE  GILDED  MAN 

have  a  headache.  Soon  he  fight  again.  And  now  we  go 
to  the  queen." 

The  subject  of  these  optimistic  assurances  sat  up  with 
a  groan,  blinking  his  eyes  savagely  at  his  companions, 
who  were  now  crowded  around  him,  and  wiping  disgust- 
edly from  his  face  some  of  the  kerosene  oil  that  had 
trickled  down  from  the  mangled  miner's  lamp,  and  that 
Miranda  had  first  taken  for  Herran's  blood. 

"Now,  we  go — we  fly!"  urged  Miranda,  his  mind  com- 
pletely absorbed  again  in  the  problem  of  extricating  him- 
self and  his  companions  from  the  dangers  of  the  battle- 
field. "They  not  see  us.  We  save  our  life  and  go  to 
this  queen.  You  are  all  right,  General — is  it  not  so?" 
he  added  impatiently. 

The  other  looked  at  him  venomously  and  groaned. 
Then,  shaking  himself,  like  a  dog  who  has  been  tempo- 
rarily worsted  in  a  rough-and-tumble  fight,  he  got  to  his 
feet  and  staggered  along  for  a  few  paces. 

"Yes,  Caramba!  I  am  all  right,"  he  said  in  Spanish, 
with  painful  sarcasm.  "It  is  a  headache,  as  you  say, 
that  is  all!     Let  us  go!" 

"That  is  good!  Come!"  grunted  Miranda  approv- 
ingly. 

At  first  Herran  was  somewhat  uncertain  of  his  footing. 
But  Miranda  helped  him  until  he  got  over  his  dazed 
feeling  sufficiently  to  walk  alone.  Then  they  all  fol- 
lowed along,  single  file,  skirting  the  edge  of  the  dark- 
ness, beyond  which  they  could  dimly  see  the  cavemen 
fighting,  but  without  being  able  to  tell  how  the  fortunes 
of  the  battle  were  going,  and  making  for  the  Condor 
Gate  as  quickly  as  they  could.  Once  beyond  that  point 
they  would  be  relieved,  they  thought,  at  least  temporarily, 


NARVA  23s 

from  the  inconveniences  of  a  battle  in  which  most  of 
them  had  been  forced  to  play  the  part  of  target  only. 
Having  passed  this  danger  zone,  they  would  set  about 
placing  as  generous  a  distance  as  possible  between  them- 
selves and  their  warlike  companions.  Further  retreat, 
it  is  true,  meant  the  abandonment  of  the  outer  cave  for 
a  venture  into  realms  whither  Anitoo  had  been  conduct- 
ing them,  practically  as  captives,  to  an  unknown  fate. 
But  the  situation  left  them  no  alternative.  Everything 
depended  on  their  finding  the  queen — and  then,  having 
found  her,  their  fate  depended  on  the  kind  of  woman  she 
might  be. 

"A  great  thing  this,"  muttered  Leighton  to  himself; 
"at  my  age  to  be  in  the  power  of  the  queen  of  a  race  of 
cavemen!" 

"They  are  good  peoples,"  remarked  Miranda  dubiously. 

"I  trust  Anitoo,"  declared  Una.  "His  queen  will  pro- 
tect us." 

"She  will  behead  us!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Quayle,  whose 
spirits  were  hopelessly  flustered  by  the  uproar  of  battle 
that  resounded  through  the  cave.  "Queens  always  be- 
head people.  Why  did  we  ever  come  into  this  frightful 
place?    We  can  never  escape." 

"Do  be  quiet,  woman!"  commanded  Leighton,  who  did 
not  care  to  hear  his  own  thoughts  voiced  in  this  manner. 

"Hold  the  tongue!"  growled  Miranda  savagely. 

"We  have  escaped  already,"  said  Una  soothingly.  "I 
believe  this  path  will  take  us  out  of  the  cave." 

"Caramba!  that  is  so,"  agreed  Miranda  delightedly, 
"It  is  change — and  there  is  some  light." 

"Yes,  there  actually  is  some  light,"  said  Leighton. 
"But — where  does  it  come  from?" 


236  THE  GILDED  MAN 

Having  passed  through  the  great  portal  that  separated 
them  from  Anitoo  and  his  men,  they  were  soon  following 
a  narrow  path  that  ran  between  two  high  walls  of  rock. 
This  path  was  at  first  scarcely  discernible.  As  they 
turned  a  sharp  corner,  however,  the  darkness  gradually 
lifted  and  they  found  it  possible,  for  the  first  time,  to 
distinguish  certain  objects  a  considerable  distance  ahead 
of  them — and  judging  by  the  direction  in  which  the 
shadows  from  these  objects  were  thrown,  it  was  evident 
that  the  light  was  not  a  reflection  cast  by  torches  carried 
by  warring  cavemen. 

This  discovery  was  hailed  as  a  momentous  one,  open 
to  two  interpretations.  Since,  as  every  one  knows, 
caves  are  never  lighted  from  sources  contained  in  them- 
selves, they  must  now  be  nearing  another  party  of  cave- 
men, who  were  carrying  lanterns,  or  else,  through  some 
twist  in  subterranean  topography,  they  had  stumbled 
upon  an  unexpected  passageway  to  the  outer  world.  No 
sooner  was  the  latter  possibility  suggested,  however,  than 
its  improbability  was  recognized.  No  rays  from  sun  or 
moon  were  ever  like  these — blue,  flickering,  ghostly — 
illuminating  the  grotesque  forms  around  them.  This 
light  had  a  tingling  quality,  as  of  sparks  that  snap  and 
glitter  when  they  are  thrown  off  from  an  electric  bat- 
tery. It  was  certainly  not  sunlight,  or  moonlight  either, 
as  the  explorers  quickly  realized.  There  remained  the 
idea  that  it  came  from  lights  carried  by  an  approaching 
band  of  cavemen. 

"It  is  like  the  torches  of  Anitoo's  musicians  1"  ex- 
claimed Una;  "it's  not  from  the  sun." 

"It  begins  to  be  too  bright,  and  at  the  same  time  too 
far  off,  for  that,"  objected  Leighton. 


NARVA  237 

"It  is  one  big  fire "  said  Miranda. 

"A  bonfire,"  interjected  Andrew. 

" and  when  we  come  there  we  will  see." 

Pressing  on  along  this  path,  the  light  steadily  increased, 
although  revealing  to  the  explorers  nothing  of  its  origin. 
They  could  walk  now  at  a  fairly  round  pace,  and  as  their 
range  of  vision  extended  their  attention  was  completely 
taken  up  in  a  study  of  the  strange  objects  to  be  seen  in 
the  unknown  world  about  them. 

Great  walls  of  white  basalt,  veined  with  broad  bands 
of  glistening  emerald,  towered  on  either  side,  reaching  up 
to  a  crystalline  roof  that  spread  forth,  far  as  eye  could 
reach,  at  an  altitude  scorning  the  limitations  of  human 
architecture.  The  irregularities  of  the  outer  cave,  with 
its  rough  bowlders  and  piles  of  fallen  debris,  its  dark 
masses  of  shapeless  sandstone,  was  exchanged  here  for 
forms  of  marvelous  symmetry,  fashioned,  one  could  but 
imagine,  for  the  enjoyment  of  a  race  of  beings  to  whom 
the  majesty  of  beauty  must  be  an  ever-living  reality. 
Seen  by  the  explorers,  in  the  wavering  half  light  that 
filled  the  cave,  the  bold  outlines  of  cliff  and  battlement 
were  softened  and  blended  in  a  vague  witchery  of  design 
suggesting  meanings  and  distances  varying  with  the 
fancy  of  the  beholder.  It  was  a  vale  of  enchantments, 
an  Aladdin's  cave,  from  which  anything  might  be  ex- 
pected with  the  mere  rubbing  of  a  ring — or  a  lamp. 

As  the  path  broadened  the  walls  became  less  precipi- 
tous; on  their  sides  objects  could  be  distinguished  that, 
anywhere  else,  would  have  been  taken  for  man's  handi- 
work. Tiny  dwellings  appeared  to  be  carved  out  of 
solid  rock  that  jutted  forth  from  dizzying  heights,  while 
feathery  forms  of  dwarf  trees  and  plants,  whose  leaves 


238  THE  GILDED  MAN 

were  of  a  spectral  transparency,  whose  branches  were 
twisted  in  thread-like  traceries  of  lines  and  figures,  found 
sustenance  where  not  a  foothold  of  earth  was  discern- 
ible. That  such  evidences  of  botanical  life  should  appear 
in  a  cavern  remote  from  the  sun's  heat  and  light  was 
surprising  enough  to  all  the  explorers;  to  Leighton  it 
savored  of  the  miraculous.  Ever  since  the  adventure 
with  the  Black  Magnet  the  savant,  indeed,  had  drifted 
into  such  a  state  of  bewilderment  that  he  was  more  help- 
less in  grasping  and  overcoming  the  difficulties  confront- 
ing them  than  those  of  the  party  who  had  little  of  his 
learning  or  experience.  Ordinarily  he  was  accustomed 
to  treat  with  contempt  phenomena  that  to  others  ap- 
peared inexplicable.  But  here  he  was  as  a  mariner  adrift 
in  midocean,  in  a  rudderless  ship,  without  sails  or  com- 
pass. Everything  seemed  at  odds  with  the  settled  beliefs 
and  theories  of  science  as  he  knew  them.  Nothing  was 
as  it  should  be.  He  was  thus  less  capable  as  a  leader 
than  the  volatile  Miranda  who,  although  fairly  well 
trained  in  the  modern  way  of  looking  at  things,  did  not 
trouble  himself  to  explain  the  marvels  that  met  them  at 
every  turn  in  their  wanderings. 

"They  live  in  the  walls,  these  people!"  exclaimed  the 
doctor,  "and  they  have  trees  and  plants  without  the  sun 
and  rain." 

That  was  all  that  need  be  said.  The  fact  was  a  fact, 
delightful  beyond  most  facts  just  because  it  was  so  out- 
landish, so  opposed  to  all  experience,  and  it  gained  noth- 
ing in  interest  or  anything  else  by  trying  to  explain  it — 
although  Miranda  did,  on  occasion,  take  a  hand  at  ex- 
plaining these  puzzling  matters. 

Entertaining  as  these  discoveries  and  discussions  might 


NARVA  239 

be,  however,  the  feeling  that  they  had  stumbled  into 
a  region  inhabited  by  a  race  of  men  who  lived  in  a  manner 
unknown  to  them — and  who,  moreover,  had  already  given 
evidence  of  unfriendliness  towards  strangers — was  not 
reassuring  to  Miranda  or  any  of  the  rest  of  them.  The 
end  of  their  adventure  grew  every  moment  more  puzzling. 
Since  their  escape  from  Anitoo  they  had  not  actually  met 
any  one.  Perhaps  this  part  of  the  cave  was  not  inhabited 
after  all.  Perhaps  Anitoo 's  talk  of  a  queen  was  not  to 
be  taken  too  seriously.  The  curious  objects  projecting 
trom  the  walls  far  above  them  might  not  be  the  human 
dwellings  that  at  first  sight  they  appeared.  Even  the 
signs  of  an  unearthly  vegetation  might  prove  a  sort  of 
mirage,  or  they  might  turn  out  to  be  mere  specimens  of 
basaltic  formation — fantastic  enough,  certainly — ^wrought 
by  the  subterranean  convulsions  that  had  given  birth  to 
this  cave  measureless  ages  ago.  But  the  air  had  become 
so  strangely  invigorating,  the  mysterious  light  so  per- 
vasive and  even  brilliant,  that  anything  seemed  possible. 
This  atmospheric  vitality,  a  certain  bracing  quality  in  the 
air,  had  been  noted,  indeed,  among  their  first  experiences 
in  the  outer  cave.  But,  compared  with  this  that  now 
tingled  and  coursed  in  their  veins  like  some  conquering 
elixir,  the  air  of  the  outer  cave  was  chill,  dead.  Here 
life  might  germinate  and  be  sustained — although  there 
lacked,  as  Miranda  had  pointed  out,  "the  sun  and  rain" 
to  aid  in  these  daily  miracles  of  nature. 

But  it  was  idle  to  theorize,  useless  to  harbor  doubts  that 
led  nowhere.  So,  they  wandered  on,  marveling  at  the 
strangeness  and  the  magnitude  of  this  underground  world, 
and  yielding  themselves,  as  familiarity  disarmed  their 
fears,  to  the  charm  of  it  all.     For  there  was  beauty  of  a 


240  THE  GILDED  MAN 

rare  and  thrilling  quality  in  these  majestic  cliffs  whose 
perfectly  proportioned  sides  gleamed  in  all  the  variega- 
tions of  color  belonging  to  certain  kinds  of  basalt.  Dis- 
playing in  structure  the  columnar  forms  peculiar  to  this 
rock,  the  admirable  symmetry  produced  easily  suggested 
the  work  of  a  human  architect  gifted  in  all  the  cunning 
of  his  art.  And  now  the  widening  space  before  them 
disclosed  unmistakable  signs  of  the  human  agency  they 
had  suspected. 

They  stood  at  the  verge  of  a  precipice.  Below  them 
stretched  a  wide  and  comparatively  level  plain,  vaulted 
over  by  a  crystalline  canopy  supported  by  innumerable 
clusters  of  slender  columns,  and  sheltering  low-storied 
houses,  or  huts,  collected  together  in  the  close  com- 
panionship of  a  thriving  little  village.  The  familiar  ac- 
companiments of  such  a  scene,  supposing  that  it  formed 
a  part  of  some  straggling,  hospitable  highway  in  the 
outer  world,  were  there.  At  the  doorways  of  the  houses 
men  and  women  stopped  to  talk;  children  played  in  the 
vacant  spaces  that  served  for  yards  and  streets;  even 
diminutive  animals,  that  appeared  in  the  distance  to  be 
near  of  kin  to  the  patient,  ubiquitous  burro,  jogged 
along  under  their  burdens  of  merchandise.  The  vil- 
lagers were  evidently  of  the  same  race  as  Anitoo  and  his 
companions,  dressed  like  them  in  white  flowing  togas, 
but  lacking  their  indefinable  charm  and  lordliness  of 
bearing.  Anywhere  else  they  would  have  been  taken 
for  peasants,  attired  somewhat  fantastically,  engaged  in 
the  most  primitive  occupations.  Here,  remote  from 
everything  that  lives  under  the  sun,  their  very  simplicity 
was  cause  for  wonder,  if  not  for  fear. 

So  far  the  explorers  had  not  attracted  the  attention  of 


NARVA  241 

the  villagers.  Where  the  former  stood  they  could  watch 
the  scene  below  without  being  observed  themselves,  l^ut 
they  knew  that  this  security  could  not  last.  Either  they 
had  to  go  on  and  make  themselves  known,  or  return  to 
Anitoo,  who  by  this  time,  possibly,  was  at  the  mercy  of 
Raoul  and  his  party.  They  hesitated.  The  problem 
was  a  knotty  one — but  it  was  not  left  for  them  to  decide. 
From  an  unexpected  quarter  came  an  interruption,  start- 
ling in  some  respects,  that  solved  their  difficulties — tem- 
porarily at  least — and  seemed  a  promising  augury  that 
whatever  dangers  confronted  them  they  might  rely  on 
backing,  of  a  sort.  A  heavily  veiled  figure,  bent  with 
age  and  toiling  down  a  precipitous  path  from  the  rocky 
height  beneath  which  they  were  sheltered,  silently  ap- 
proached them.  At  sight  of  this  singular  being,  Mrs. 
Quayle,  not  yet  accustomed  to  this  land  of  uncomfortable 
surprises,  started  to  run  away.  Her  frantic  efforts  at 
speed  restored  the  confidence  of  the  others  and,  after  she 
had  been  unceremoniously  brought  to  order  by  Leighton, 
the  little  party  managed  to  face  the  newcomer  with  some 
show  of  composure. 

Leaning  on  a  long  staff,  the  descending  figure,  ignoring 
the  others,  advanced  towards  Una,  who  stood  by  herself 
beneath  a  low  shelf  of  rock.  Pausing  within  a  few  feet 
of  the  wondering  girl,  the  veil  was  slowly  lifted,  revealing 
the  seamed  and  wrinkled  face  and  long  flowing  white 
hair  of  a  woman  whose  great  age  was  visible  in  every 
feature.  In  bygone  times  she  would  have  been  pro- 
claimed a  witch,  although  in  h'cv  aspect  there  was  nothing 
of  the  malevolence  tradition  attributes  to  witches.  But 
there  was  the  solemnity,  the  dramatic  gesture  of  the 
sibyl — a  being  who  is  supposed  to  rank  several  grades 


242  THE  GILDED  MAN 

higher  than  the  witch — when,  with  uplifted  hand,  she 
commanded  the  attention  of  those  to  whom  she  deigned 
to  speak.  Drawn  by  something  of  benignity  in  her 
glance,  and  undaunted  by  her  otherwise  fantastic  appear- 
ance, Una  came  forward  to  meet  her — a  movement  that 
at  once  elicited  a  sign  of  approval. 

"She  is  one  loca,  one  crazy  woman,"  growled  Miranda. 

"Of  course  she  is  dangerous  1"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Quayle. 

General  Herran  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  muttered 
vigorous  profanities  in  Spanish. 

"Nonsense!  The  woman  is  probably  slightly  de- 
mented," was  Leighton's  judgment  in  the  matter.  Una, 
apparently,  was  without  opinion  as  to  the  character  or 
the  intentions  of  the  singular  being  whose  gaze  was 
fastened  upon  her,  and  whose  outstretched  arm  singled 
her  out  from  the  rest. 

"Oh!  if  she  would  only  speak  in  a  language  we  could 
understand,"  she  exclaimed.  To  the  amazement  of 
every  one,  the  wish  was  gratified  as  soon  as  uttered.  For 
the  old  woman — whether  witch,  sibyl,  or  lunatic — an- 
swered in  plain  English,  an  English  somewhat  defective 
in  pronunciation,  it  is  true,  but  correct  enough  in  form 
to  give  evidence  of  an  unusual  amount  of  study  on  the 
part  of  the  speaker. 

"I  expected  you.    Come  with  me,"  she  commanded. 

Astonishment  silenced  further  comment.  For  the  mo- 
ment even  Miranda  had  nothing  to  say.  Then,  recover- 
ing his  usual  assurance,  he  expressed  himself  with 
emphasis. 

"Caramba!     She  is  one  witch,"  he  declared. 

The  old  woman  shook  her  head  impatiently.  It  was 
with  Una  alone  she  wanted  to  speak;  she  resented  as 


NARVA  243 

interference  any  word  from  the  others.  Una,  on  her 
part,  was  strangely  drawn  to  her.  The  odd  dress,  the 
air  of  mystery  that  repelled  the  others,  increased  her 
interest.  She  was  impressed  by  her  calm  assumption  of 
authority,  convinced  that  she  was  there  to  help  them. 
And  then,  a  novel  idea  flashed  through  her  mind. 

"Are  you  the  queen?"  she  asked  abruptly. 

The  stern  Indian  features  relaxed  into  the  ghost  of  a 
smile,  accompanied  by  a  feeble  chuckle  from  a  lean  and 
wrinkled  throat. 

"I  am  Narva,"  she  announced  quietly — ^but  whether 
"Narva"  was  the  queen  she  did  not  deign  to  say. 

"Very  well,  my  lady,"  argued  Miranda,  "but  we  want 
the  queen." 

"Silence!"  commanded  Narva,  turning  for  the  first  time 
from  Una  to  the  others.    "Come  with  me,"  she  repeated. 

"But  why?"  persisted  the  doctor;  "what  for  we  go 
with  you,  my  senora,  unless  you  are  queen?" 

"Perhaps  she  is  the  queen,"  suggested  Andrew;  "only 
she  doesn't  want  to  say  so.  She  didn't  deny  it!"  a  view 
of  the  matter  that  met  with  no  response. 

But,  queen  or  not,  Una  was  ready  to  pin  her  faith  to 
this  strange  being  who  had  accosted  them  in  so  unex- 
pected a  manner.  It  was  useless  even  to  attempt  an 
explanation  of  how  an  aged  Indian  woman,  answering 
to  the  name  of  Narva,  inhabiting  a  cave  in  the  remote 
Andes,  could  talk  English,  and  how  it  happened  that  she 
appeared  to  know  them — a  party  of  distressed  foreign- 
ers— whom  she  had  certainly  never  met  before.  So  long 
as  she  refused  to  explain — and  refuse  she  certainly  did — 
all  this  would  have  to  remain  the  puzzle  that  it  was. 
But,  logical  or  not,  dangerous  or  not,  Narva  seemed  to  be 


244  THE  GILDED  MAN 

something  very  like  their  last  hope.  Her  bearing, 
although  decidedly  reserved,  was  not  unkindly — was 
even  friendly — and  so  Una  determined  to  follow  her 
without  further  discussion.  The  others  scarcely  shared 
her  confidence,  Mrs.  Quayle  stuck  to  it  that  Narva  was 
dangerous,  probably  a  witch;  Leighton  was  still  in  doubt 
as  to  her  sanity.  Finally,  Miranda  put  the  point  blank 
question — 

"Why  we  go  with  her?" 

"Simply  because  we  have  no  one  else  to  go  with,  no 
other  plan,"  was  Una's  prompt  reply. 

There  was  no  gainsaying  this.  They  were  wandering, 
without  guide  or  clew  of  any  kind,  through  a  cave  filled 
with  mysteries  and  dangers.  On  the  trail  behind  them 
were  two  bands  of  natives,  absorbed  in  the  occupation 
of  cutting  each  other's  throats.  From  one  of  these  bands 
it  was  certain  they  had  much  to  fear.  In  front  of  them 
was  a  considerable  body  of  cavemen,  not  at  present  en- 
gaged in  war,  it  is  true,  but  who  might,  for  all  they  knew, 
prove  unfriendly.  Witch  or  queen,  Narva  volunteered 
to  guide  them — somewhere. 

"At  least  we  must  know  where  she  intends  to  take  us," 
declared  Leighton. 

"I  take  you  from  these,"  said  Narva,  pointing  in  the 
direction  of  the  villagers. 

"Why  should  we  go  from  them?"  asked  Leighton. 

"They  kill  you,"  was  the  laconic  reply. 

"What  bloodthirsty  people  they  all  are!"  exclaimed 
Andrew. 

But  Narva's  calm  statement  of  what  was  to  be  ex- 
pected proved  decisive.  There  remained  the  doubt  as 
to  her  sincerity.    The  timorous  Mrs.  Quayle  scented  a 


NARVA  245 

diabolical  plot  in  the  whole  affair,  and  her  fears  were 
shared  by  some  of  the  others.  Only  Una  would  brook 
no  delay. 

"We  want  to  get  out  of  the  cave,"  she  said,  addressing 
Narva.     "We  have  lost  the  way — you  will  guide  us?" 

'^Something  you  do  first,"  retorted  Narva;  "then  you 
go  free." 

The  suggestion  that  they  were  still,  in  a  sense,  pris- 
oners, and  that  some  kind  of  service  was  expected  of 
them  before  they  could  regain  their  freedom,  was  not 
pleasant.  What  was  it  that  they  could  do  for  so  singular 
a  person  as  this,  who  gave  the  impression  of  having 
planned  to  meet  them  in  this  very  spot?  Narva  took  a 
witch's  privilege  to  speak  in  riddles.  No  amount  of 
questioning  could  get  her  to  explain  what  she  meant. 
The  answer  to  everything  was  always  "follow  me" — and 
as  she  pointed  to  the  valley  whenever  she  said  this,  they 
gathered  that  the  direction  they  were  expected  to  take 
was  practically  that  which  they  had  been  pursuing  ever 
since  they  left  the  Condor  Gate.  As  this  would  inevit- 
ably bring  them  among  the  villagers — who,  they  had  just 
been  told,  were  prepared  to  "kill  them" — they  could  not 
understand  Narva's  plan  at  all.  There  being  no  choice 
left  them,  however,  they  yielded  and  went  with  her. 

The  path  leading  into  the  valley  was  abrupt  and  dan- 
gerous. Narva,  striding  ahead,  was  unimpeded  by  ob- 
stacles that  left  the  others  breathless  and  panic-stricken. 
They  wanted  to  turn  back  before  they  had  gone  very 
far — but  this  would  have  been  quite  as  difficult  to  accom- 
plish as  to  go  on. 

At  this  point,  apparently,  the  geological  construction 
of  the  cave  had  undergone  some  radical  changes.     Con- 


246  THE  GILDED  MAN 

vulsions,  undoubtedly  of  volcanic  origin,  had  rent  the 
solid  walls  of  granite  in  two,  leaving  irregular  chasms,  of 
uncertain  depth,  to  be  traversed  before  the  smooth  floor 
of  the  valley  could  be  reached.  These  chasms,  where 
their  width  demanded  it,  were  spanned  by  swaying 
bridges  of  rope — or  liana — and  wood  that  proved  a  sore 
trial  to  the  weaker  members  of  the  party,  delaying  their 
progress  to  an  extent  that  seriously  strained  Narva's 
patience.  The  old  Indian  was  especially  put  out  by 
Mrs.  Quayle,  whom  she  contemptuously  called  "baby," 
and  whose  pathetic  helplessness  astride  a  plank  over  a 
yawning  cavern  aroused  in  her  the  nearest  approach  to 
laughter  she  had  shown. 

Under  Narva's  guidance,  however,  the  difficulties  of 
this  downward  trail  were  overcome  without  mishap.  The 
perilous  abysses,  once  crossed,  appeared  not  more  than 
miniature  dangers  in  retrospect;  but  immediately  facing 
them,  on  this  plain  that,  at  a  distance,  had  seemed  so 
charming  and  pastoral  in  character,  there  was  menace 
enough  for  the  most  daring.  At  first  sight  of  the  in- 
vaders, for  so  they  were  deemed,  the  villagers  showed 
unmistakable  hostility.  Dropping  their  various  occupa- 
tions with  one  accord,  they  confronted  the  explorers  in  so 
threatening  a  manner  that  the  latter  had  either  to  de- 
fend themselves  as  best  they  might,  or  retreat.  But 
the  thought  of  those  villainous  chasms,  spanned  by 
flimsy  bridges  of  rope,  was  too  appalling  to  offer  the 
remotest  hope  of  safety  in  flight.  Anything  would  be 
better  than  a  return — if  return  were  even  possible — over 
so  hazardous  a  path. 

"We  fight!"  announced  Miranda  through  clenched 
teeth — and,  regretting  his  lost  revolver,  he  threw  him- 


NARVA  247 

self  into  as  warlike  an  attitude  as  his  rotund  figure  would 
permit. 

This  had  anything  but  a  quieting  effect  on  the  vil- 
lagers. From  every  direction  volunteers  hastened  to 
strengthen  their  line  of  battle,  and  it  might  have  fared 
badly  with  the  enterprising  doctor,  upon  whom  a  concen- 
trated attack  resembling  a  football  rush  was  about  to  be 
launched,  had  it  not  been  for  the  interference  of  Narva. 
The  old  Indian  woman,  scornful  at  first  of  the  excited 
demonstration  of  the  villagers,  now  took  an  active  part 
in  what  was  going  on.  Brushing  Miranda  aside,  she 
checked  the  advancing  mob  with  a  torrent  of  angry  words 
that  sounded  like  the  scolding  lecture  of  an  outraged 
school  teacher  bringing  her  refractory  pupils  to  order. 
As  she  spoke  in  the  native  language  of  the  Indians,  what 
she  said  was  totally  unintelligible  to  those  whom  she  was 
defending.  But  on  the  cavemen  the  effect  of  her  words 
was  immediate.  The  shouts  ceased;  the  hastily  formed 
line  of  battle  was  broken.  The  angry  villagers  acknowl- 
edged Narva's  authority  by  every  sign  of  submission — 
sullenly  given,  it  is  true — and  the  way  was  clear  and  free 
for  the  "invaders"  to  go  on. 

The  singular  episode  impressed  them  deeply.  They 
realized  that  they  were  surrounded  by  people  who  did 
not  want  them  in  this  underworld  of  theirs,  and  that  they 
were,  at  the  same  time,  under  the  protection  of  a  being 
who,  mad  or  inspired,  was  powerful  enough  to  stand  be- 
tween them  and  danger.  Who  she  was,  or  why  she  be- 
friended them  remained  a  mystery.  On  this  point  Narva 
was  as  uncommunicative  as  ever.  On  occasion,  as  they 
had  just  witnessed,  she  was  capable  of  the  volubility  of 
a  fishwife;  with  them  her  reserve  was  impregnable. 


248  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"Follow  me!"  she  commanded — and  there  was  nothing 
for  it  but  obey.  Miranda,  who  was  the  immediate  cause 
of  the  trouble,  muttered  maledictions  on  the  fate  that 
left  him  at  the  mercy  of  an  eccentric  beldame  who  might 
be  leading  them  to  some  unthinkable  witch's  dance — and 
the  rest  exhorted  him  to  curb  his  warlike  propensities  in 
the  future. 

Gliding  ahead  at  a  quicker  pace  than  before,  Narva 
led  the  way  along  the  narrow  path  on  each  side  of  which 
stood  the  huts  of  the  villagers.  These  huts  were  not 
more  than  thirty  in  number,  built  of  the  rough-hewn 
stone  of  the  cave.  Each,  apparently,  contained  two,  or 
in  some  cases,  three  rooms  on  the  ground  floor.  Roofs 
they  had  none,  a  deficiency  in  architecture  evidently  with- 
out inconvenience,  since  the  great  vaulted  dome  of  the 
cave  furnished  them  with  whatever  protection  overhead 
was  necessary.  The  whole  series  of  little  houses  com- 
posing the  village  resembled  one  huge,  hospitable  com- 
munal dwelling,  not  unlike  the  ancient  pueblo  ruins  of 
Arizona,  in  which  there  was  the  privacy  desired  by  sepa- 
rate families,  together  with  a  close  union  of  household 
interests  that  is  scarcely  possible  in  settlements  where 
each  group  of  individuals  lives  under  its  own  rooftree. 
As  if  further  to  preserve  this  communal  manner  of  living, 
the  openings  into  the  huts  were  without  doors,  although, 
in  a  few  instances,  curtains  of  a  heavy  red  material  served 
as  doors.  These  curtains  were  adorned  with  thin  plates 
of  gold,  cut  in  primitive  designs  depicting  various  forms 
of  animal  life.  The  huts  so  marked  the  explorers  took 
to  be  the  dwellings  either  of  village  dignitaries,  or  build- 
ings devoted  to  public  uses. 

There  was  scant  opportunity  to  observe  more  than  the 


NARVA  249 

barest  outlines  of  this  singular  underground  settlement, 
as  the  pace  set  by  Narva  left  no  time  for  loitering.  But 
the  explorers  felt  little  desire  to  prolong  their  stay  here, 
although  they  soon  forgot  their  fears  as  they  noted  the 
sullen  deference  with  which  their  mysterious  guide  was 
everywhere  greeted.  The  villagers  retired  before  them 
into  their  various  dwellings,  and  as  the  little  company 
passed  along  the  unobstructed  street  it  was  welcomed 
with  demonstrations  of  respect  resembling  the  homage 
accorded  some  eastern  potentate  who  deigns  to  visit  his 
subjects.  The  change  was  grateful  to  those  who  a  mo- 
ment ago  had  been  the  objects  of  popular  disfavor,  at  the 
same  time  that  it  stimulated  their  curiosity  regarding 
Narva.  The  latter  paid  no  heed  to  her  surroundings, 
but  her  progress  was  timed  to  the  needs  of  those  who 
followed  her.  An  occasional  backward  glance  gave  proof 
that  her  interest  in  them,  whether  for  good  or  ill,  had  not 
abated.  Talk  with  her,  however,  was  impossible;  and 
thus  the  straggling  little  village,  with  its  groups  of 
obsequious  Indians,  was  traversed  in  silence. 

When  the  last  hut  had  disappeared  in  the  distance 
Narva  turned  abruptly.  The  path  was  again  becoming 
precipitous,  and  although  the  mysterious  light  with  which 
the  cave  was  illumined  revealed  whatever  obstacles  were 
in  the  way,  there  were  dark  chasms  in  the  overhanging 
cliffs  that  filled  the  timid  with  grim  forebodings.  Where 
they  stood  the  ground  was  level,  making  a  little  plat- 
form, or  square,  three  sides  of  which  were  unprotected 
by  walls.  On  the  fourth  side  an  arched  opening  in  the 
smooth  face  of  a  lofty  tower  of  granite,  glittering  with 
countless  facets  of  crystal,  served  as  entrance  to  a  spa- 
cious interior.     Emblazoned  on  the  keystone  of  this  arch 


250  THE  GILDED  MAN 

was  the  same  emblem  that  marked  the  cyclopean  gateway 
to  the  inhabited  portion  of  the  cave — the  rudely  carved 
figure  of  a  condor.  Beneath  this  sculptured  symbol 
Narva  stood  for  a  moment  regarding  the  others  with 
stern  composure.  Then  she  pointed  to  the  shadowy 
depths  within. 
"Enter!"  she  commanded. 


XVII 

A  SONG  AND  ITS  SEQUEL 

NARVA'S  forbidding  presence  promised  little  in  the 
way  of  cheer  or  warmth  of  welcome  to  her  wearied 
companions.  The  singular  dwelling  into  which  the  latter 
were  ushered  recalled,  at  first  glance,  the  gloomy  abode 
of  some  medieval  anchorite  to  whose  theory  of  existence 
anything  approaching  luxury  was  to  be  shunned,  rooted 
out,  as  an  obstruction  to  the  soul's  growth.  Whether 
or  not  Narva's  mode  of  living  was  actually  based  on  these 
mystical  considerations,  her  home,  at  least,  in  its  lack 
of  visible  comforts,  seemed  the  typical  hermit's  cell. 
Here  was  neither  superfluous  ornament  nor  evidence  of 
the  slightest  touch  of  feminine  grace  or  care.  The  black- 
ened walls  of  granite  rose  with  uncompromising  abrupt- 
ness, unbroken  ty  niche  or  shelf,  to  a  ceiling  whose  vague 
outlines  were  lost  in  darkness.  A  truss  of  straw  was 
thrown  in  one  corner  of  the  apartment,  and  upon  it  was 
spread  a  rough  woolen  counterpane.  Three  flattened 
blocks  of  stone,  placed  at  intervals  along  the  walls, 
served  as  benches;  in  the  center  a  rock-table,  carefully 
smoothed  and  large  enough  for  a  banquet  fairly  regal  in 
its  dimensions,  rose  four  feet  from  the  floor.  Upon  this 
table,  with  its  suggested  possibilities  of  entertainment, 
stood  a  large  jug,  curiously  fashioned  of  a  single  crystal, 

251 


252  THE  GILDED  MAN 

within  which  faintly  gleamed  an  opalescent  liquid.  There 
were  also  two  stone  platters,  one  containing  heaped-up 
cubes  of  a  white  substance  resembling  bread,  and  the 
other  certain  broiled  fish — they  looked  like  fish — whose 
globular  bodies  and  reddish-blue  flesh  aroused  misgiv- 
ings, if  not  a  m.ore  decided  feeling  of  repugnance,  among 
those  unfamiliar  with  subterranean  bills  of  fare. 

But  the  explorers  were  famished  enough  to  attack  any- 
thing. The  dangers  they  had  escaped,  the  fatigue  aris- 
ing from  prolonged  exposure  and  unwonted  exercise,  the 
bracing  air  of  the  cave,  would  have  corrected  the  most 
fastidious  taste  and  made  even  boot-leather  palatable. 
But  Narva's  fish,  notwithstanding  their  sickly  hue,  were 
not  to  be  classed,  by  any  means,  with  boot-leather.  After 
the  first  wave  of  disgust,  even  the  suspicious  Miranda 
scented  a  welcome  repast  in  the  dishes  spread  before 
him,  while  the  others  were  in  this  only  too  eager  to  fol- 
low his  lead.  Their  hostess,  aware  of  their  hunger,  gave 
a  reassuring  gesture  of  invitation. 

"Eat!"  she  said  solemnly;  "it  is  for  you." 
They  needed  no  second  bidding.  Scorning  the  absence 
of  chairs  and  the  ordinary  dishes  and  utensils  that  go 
with  a  meal,  they  fell  to  and,  with  the  first  mouthful, 
expressed  approval  by  varying  grunts  and  exclamations. 
Even  the  fish  was  voted  a  delicacy  of  superlative  excel- 
lence. In  flavor  it  recalled  the  sweet  succulence  of  rare 
tropical  fruit,  like  the  cirimoya,  with  a  soupQon  of  spice 
that  gave  it  the  fillip  of  a  genuine  culinary  masterpiece. 
As  for  the  bread,  it  was  not  bread  at  all,  but  some 
mysterious  compound  of  flesh  and  vegetable,  the  nutritive 
qualities  of  which  were  eagerly  explained  and  extolled 
by  the  ravenous  doctor. 


A  SONG  AND  ITS  SEQUEL  253 

Una,  however,  was  denied  participation  in  this  unex- 
pected and  singular  feast.  From  the  first  Narva  had 
shown  a  special  interest  in  the  girl;  caused,  doubtless, 
by  the  latter's  early  expression  of  confidence  in  her  offer 
to  protect  them.  This  interest,  it  now  appeared,  had  a 
distinct  purpose  in  view,  which  Narva  lost  no  time  in 
carrying  out.  Satisfied  that  the  others  were  provided 
with  the  entertainment  they  desired,  she  took  Una  by 
the  hand  and  led  her  to  a  distant  corner  of  the  apartment. 

"Will  you  go  with  me?"  she  asked  her  in  a  whisper. 

Una  hesitated.  To  leave  her  uncle  and  the  others, 
trusting  herself  entirely  to  this  mysterious  being,  was 
more  than  she  had  bargained  for.  Divining  the  cause  of 
her  irresolution,  Narva  spoke  reassuringly. 

"They  are  safe,"  she  said.  "We  will  come  back  to 
them." 

Something  in  the  older  woman's  manner  won  Una's 
confidence.  She  felt  that  a  way  out  of  their  difficulties 
was  being  offered  her.  Hope  of  a  still  greater  result 
silenced  her  fears. 

"Yes,"  she  said. 

Then,  behind  one  of  the  stone  benches,  yielding  to 
Narva's  touch,  a  door  slowly  opened,  revealing  a  narrow 
passage  upon  which  they  entered. 

Glancing  hastily  back,  Una  noticed  that  the  door,  a 
great  block  of  stone  revolving  with  the  utmost  nicety 
in  grooves  made  for  the  purpose,  had  closed  behind  them. 
She  was  thus  separated  from  her  companions  and  alone 
with  a  singular  being  whose  purpose  in  all  this  she  was 
at  a  loss  to  fathom.  Narva's  trustworthiness  had  ap- 
pealed to  her,  it  is  true,  and  she  had  followed  her  leading 
when  the  others  held  back.    But  there  was  an  air  about 


254  THE  GILDED  MAN 

Narva,  suggesting  the  occasional  freaks  of  one  whose  wits 
are  not  of  the  steadiest,  that  might  well  cause  anxiety 
among  those  temporarily  in  her  power.  Just  now,  how- 
ever, there  was  no  sign  of  trouble,  and  Una  repressed 
any  outward  evidence  of  alarm  she  might  feel.  Narva, 
indeed,  seemed  to  have  lost  the  solemn  dignity  she  had 
assumed  hitherto,  and  became  every  moment  more  in- 
gratiating, reassuring.  Gently  stroking  Una's  hand,  she 
stopped  in  her  hurried  walk  down  the  corridor  and,  throw- 
ing back  the  heavy  veil  obscuring  her  features,  showed  a 
face  marked  by  the  nobility  and  calm  of  age.  Its  serenity 
and  kindliness  strengthened  Una's  confidence. 

"We  will  go  back  to  them,"  said  Narva;  "but  first  we 
must  see,"  she  added  enigmatically. 

"Why  have  you  brought  me  here?"  asked  Una. 

"Something  you  will  see.  You  will  help  us,  and  then 
I  will  help  you.    I  knew  you  were  coming." 

The  explanation,  if  it  could  be  called  one,  increased 
Una's  mystification. 

"You  could  know  nothing  of  me.  How  could  you 
know?"  she  persisted.    "How  can  I  help  you?" 

"Ah,  Narva  is  very  old,"  she  replied,  her  long  bony 
fingers  passing  through  the  masses  of  snow-white  hair 
that  fell  to  her  shoulders,  "and  with  the  old  there  is 
knowledge.  Long  time  I  lived  with  your  people,  far 
from  here.  All  the  years  I  keep  the  secret  of  this  King- 
dom of  the  Condor.  No  one  knows — if  they  know  they 
do  not  dare  to  come.  Only  one — ^he  knows,  he  has  come. 
And  now,  you  have  come.    Why?" 

The  abrupt  question  was  confusing.  Una  wondered 
how  much  she  knew,  how  much  she  dared  tell  her.  The 
inscrutable  eyes  fixed  upon  her  revealed  nothing.    Was 


A  SONG  AND  ITS  SEQUEL  255 

it  to  learn  her  secret  Narva  had  lured  her  away  from 
the  others?  The  narrow  gloomy  passsage  where  they 
stood  was  remote  from  the  inhabited  portion  of  the  cave; 
the  door  to  Narva's  dwelling,  now  that  it  was  closed, 
was  not  distinguishable  from  the  rest  of  the  wall  into 
which  it  fitted  so  admirably.  Had  Una  tried,  she  could 
not  have  found  her  way  back.  She  was  completely  at 
Narva's  mercy — but  the  old  Indian  had  shown  only 
friendliness  hitherto,  it  was  reasonable  to  suppose  that 
her  proffer  of  assistance  was  genuine,  since  motive  for 
treachery  was  lacking.  Impulsively  reaching  this  con- 
clusion, Una  answered  Narva's  question  without  reserve. 

"I  have  come,"  she  said,  "because  I  am  looking  for  one 
who  is  dear  to  me.    I  think  he  is  lost  in  this  cave." 

"Why?"  asked  Narva,  showing  neither  surprise  nor 
incredulity. 

"Once  before  he  disappeared,  and  then  he  was  lost 
here." 

"When?" 

"Three  years  ago.  A  man  who  was  with  him  told  me. 
But — he  is  not  his  friend.    Perhaps  it  is  not  true." 

"It  is  true." 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  asked  Una  eagerly. 

"I  know,"  she  replied  quietly,  but  with  convincing 
emphasis. 

"Then  he  is  here!  I  am  right.  You  know  where  he 
is.    You  will  take  me  to  him!" 

"Ah!  Perhaps  you  will  not  go.  You  are  a  white 
woman;  you  will  be  afraid  to  leave  your  friends  and  go 
with  me." 

"I  am  not  afraid." 

"Perhaps  this  man  you  look  for  has  changed.    Perhaps 


256  THE  GILDED  MAN 

he  will  not  know  you.  And  this  other,  his  enemy,  per- 
haps he  is  here.    There  will  be  trouble,  danger." 

''Take  me  to  him ! "  demanded  Una  passionately.  "If 
there  is  danger,  I  should  be  with  him.  I  am  not  afraid. 
I  trust  you." 

"That  is  good,"  said  Narva.    "Come!" 

Una  now  became  aware  that  the  corridor  down  which 
they  were  slowly  walking  widened  out  into  a  respectable 
thoroughfare  at  its  further  end,  whence  it  abruptly  turned 
and  was  merged  in  the  main  trail  that  had  brought  them 
to  Narva's  dwelling.  Thus,  the  latter,  through  some 
labyrinthine  arrangement  of  passages,  was  entered  at  one 
place  and  offered  an  exit  in  an  entirely  opposite  direction, 
whence,  by  devious  twists  and  turns,  it  came  back  to  the 
first  point  of  approach.  To  Una,  at  least,  bewildered  by 
the  intricacies  of  cave  topography,  this  seemed  the  ex- 
planation of  the  course  they  were  pursuing,  although  the 
mysterious  doubling  of  their  tracks  brought  little  con- 
solation— especially  when  she  realized  that  her  uncle  and 
his  companions  were  lost  in  the  center  of  a  maze  the  clew 
to  which  completely  eluded  her.  Anxiety  for  their  safety 
overrode,  for  the  moment,  every  other  consideration; 
she  grasped  Narva's  arm  with  a  detaining  gesture,  a  half 
uttered  question  on  her  lips.  Her  appeal,  however,  was 
not  answered.  Like  some  ancient  oracle,  from  which 
has  proceeded  the  final  Pythian  message,  no  further 
revelation  was  to  be  granted.  In  true  sibylline  fashion, 
with  finger  on  lip  and  eyes  set  on  some  object  in  the 
distance  hidden  from  Una,  Narva  indicated  that  the  time 
for  speech  had  passed  and  now  it  remained  for  them  to 
carry  out  as  expeditiously  as  possible,  the  design  upon 
which  they  were  setting  forth.     From  her  gesture  and 


A  SONG  AND  ITS  SEQUEL  257 

the  stealthy  caution  with  which  she  advanced,  Una 
gathered  that  there  were  urgent  reasons  for  maintaining 
a  strict  silence.  They  might  be  surrounded  by  hostile 
forces,  their  destination  might  be  a  secret  one,  or  at  least 
a  knowledge  of  it  might  involve  danger  to  the  man  for 
whose  preservation  she  firmly  believed  they  were  en- 
gaged. Narva,  in  warning  her  of  this  danger,  hinted 
that  v/hatever  they  had  to  fear  was  in  some  way  due  to 
the  presence  of  Raoul  Arthur  in  the  cave.  The  enmity 
of  the  latter  to  Ddvid,  moreover,  was  full  of  sinister 
possibilities,  and  the  conviction  that  they  were  about  to 
foil  the  evil  thus  threatened  nerved  Una  to  face  any- 
thing. 

Una  would  have  felt  a  stronger  confidence  in  their 
mission,  a  keener  enthusiasm,  had  Narva  been  more 
definite  as  to  the  identity  of  the  man  to  whose  rescue  she 
believed  they  were  hastening,  or  had  she  given  some  hint 
of  the  kind  of  danger  to  which  he  was  actually  exposed. 
But  it  was  all  so  vague,  she  feared  that  some  mistake 
had  been  made,  a  mistake  easily  growing  out  of  the  fervid 
imagination  that,  any  one  could  see,  quite  controlled  Nar- 
va's mind.  While  there  was  no  shaking  the  old  sibyl's 
reticence,  however,  the  calm  determination  with  which 
she  set  about  her  task  proved,  in  a  measure,  inspiring. 
Una  might  feel  an  occasional  doubt  as  to  the  outcome  of 
their  venture,  but  this  doubt  finally  disappeared  alto- 
gether before  the  faith,  growing  stronger  with  the  chang- 
ing aspect  of  the  scene  through  which  they  were  passing, 
that  in  some  unlooked-for  way  she  was  about  to  attain 
the  main  object  that  had  brought  them  into  this  ancient 
home  of  a  vanished  race. 

They  had  now  entered  a  portion  of  the  cave  where 


2S8  THE  GILDED  MAN 

the  dim  half-light  to  which  Una  was  accustomed  turned, 
by  comparison,  almost  to  the  light  of  day.  This  light 
appeared  to  come  from  a  fixed  point  directly  in  front  of 
them.  No  central  globe,  or  body  of  fire,  to  which  this 
appearance  might  be  traced  was  visible;  but,  in  the  far 
distance,  where  the  light  reached  its  greatest  intensity, 
over  the  top  of  a  dark  ridge  of  rock  rising  before  them 
like  the  summit  of  a  mountain,  thin  streamers  of  white 
radiance  shot  upward,  rising  and  falling  in  the  unequal 
flashes  and  subsidences  generated  by  an  electric  battery. 
This  luminous  appearance,  however,  was  too  stupendous 
in  its  effects  to  be  attributable  to  a  mere  electric  battery. 
To  Una's  dazzled  vision  it  rather  resembled  the  first 
onrush  of  the  morning  sun,  when  the  presence  of  that 
luminary  just  below  the  horizon  is  proclaimed  by  ad- 
vancing rays  of  light.  Here,  however,  an  effect  of 
greater  motion  was  produced  than  in  the  steady  and 
gradual  illumination  of  the  heavens  heralding  the  coming 
of  the  sun.  The  sparkles  and  flashes  neither  grew  nor 
shrank  in  intensity.  If  they  were  produced  by  a  central 
body  corresponding  to  the  sun  that  shone  upon  the  out- 
side world,  it  was  a  stationary  sun,  fixed  in  some  mysteri- 
ous, invisible  recess  of  the  cave. 

And  now  the  outlines  of  the  distant  mountain  top  be- 
gan to  assume  a  greater  definiteness  than  before.  Objects 
just  below  this  furthest  summit  loomed  up  spectrally  out 
of  the  shadows  that  had  enveloped  them;  for  the  first 
time  Una  realized  that  they  were  facing,  not  a  wall  of 
unbroken  rock,  such  as  had  overwhelmed  her  at  every 
side  since  leaving  her  companions  in  Narva's  dwelling, 
but  an  assemblage  of  majestic  forms  suggesting,  in  their 
coherence   and    symmetrical    arrangement,    the    towers, 


A  SONG  AND  ITS  SEQUEL  259 

arches,  and  ramparts  of  some  ancient  citadel.  This 
building,  or  collection  of  buildings,  from  their  position 
and  commanding  aspect,  might  well  be  taken  as  the 
center  of  the  region  it  so  fitly  dominated.  Upon  it  con- 
verged all  the  lines,  furrows  and  intricate  masses  of 
walls  composing,  so  far  as  they  could  be  included  in  one 
comprehensive  view,  the  architecture  of  the  cave.  Im- 
mediately above  it,  crowning  the  very  summit,  arose  a 
single  tower,  broad  at  the  base,  and  tapering  until  it 
reached  a  sharp  point  just  below  the  cave's  jagged,  over- 
hanging roof.  Behind  this  tower  the  light  flashed  and 
glowed  so  brilliantly  the  shaft  of  stone  itself  seemed  to 
sparkle  and  transmit  a  radiance  as  if  it  were  composed 
of  some  crystalline  substance. 

Moved  by  this  fairy-like  spectacle  Una  again  implored 
Narva  to  tell  her  something  of  where  they  were  going. 
What  was  this  cave  of  wonders,  that  no  man  had  ever 
heard  of  before,  and  into  which  they  had  stumbled  by 
chance?  What  bygone  secret  of  the  earth  was  it  con- 
nected with,  what  people  were  these  who  lived  in  it  as 
in  a  world  apart  from  all  other  worlds?  Who  was  she, 
buried  out  of  sight  of  all  men,  and  yet  talking  to  Una 
in  her  native  tongue,  and  seemingly  so  familiar  with  all 
that  concerned  her?  Why  had  she  been  waiting  for 
them,  where  was  she  taking  them?  But  to  all  Una's 
questions  Narva  vouchsafed  no  word  of  reply.  Smiling 
to  herself,  she  pointed  in  the  direction  of  the  light- 
crowned  summit  before  them  and  hastened  on,  descending 
now  into  a  valley  where  they  soon  lost  sight  of  the  vision 
that  had  offered  so  delightful  a  goal  to  their  wanderings. 
Narva's  gesture,  however,  and  the  tendency  of  the  path 
they  were  taking  assured  Una  that  the  distant  palace — 


26o  THE  GILDED  MAN 

its  situation  and  noble  architecture  suggested  nothing 
less  than  a  palace,  the  regal  abode  of  the  ruler  of  all  this 
realm  of  marvels — was  their  real  destination,  and  it  was 
left  to  her  to  imagine  why  Narva  was  guiding  her  thither. 
But  the  physical  difficulties  of  the  path  they  followed  gave 
her  scant  opportunity  for  speculation.  Chasms  they 
had  to  cross  whose  depths  Una  would  have  shunned,  had 
it  not  been  for  the  promise  of  some  great  achievement 
that  would  free  them  all  from  the  dangers  by  which  they 
were  surrounded.  In  other  places  the  path  narrowed 
to  a  mere  fissure  between  great  walls  of  rock,  and  again 
it  skirted  the  edge  of  a  precipice  that,  in  normal  times, 
would  have  filled  Una  with  horror.  Moreover,  there 
were  moments  when  she  fancied  she  heard,  from  the  dark- 
ness beneath  them,  the  shouts  of  a  hurrying  throng  of 
people — an  impression  that  might  well  be  true  since  she 
had  abundant  evidence  already  that  the  cave  was  in- 
habited by  a  race  whose  number  she  had  no  means  of 
knowing. 

But  this  reminder  of  the  presence  of  others  in  the 
cave  besides  her  own  party  was  more  disturbing  to  Una 
than  the  physical  obstacles  and  dangers  immediately 
facing  her.  These  could  at  least  be  met  and  overcome — 
but  about  an  invisible  multitude,  their  attitude  toward 
them,  their  purpose  in  apparently  following  them,  there 
was  an  indefiniteness  that  was  altogether  disheartening. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  she  had  no  doubt  these  hidden  cave- 
men were  hostile;  her  previous  experiences  had  filled  her 
with  a  vague  dread  in  that  respect.  This  dread,  also, 
was  sharpened  by  the  reflection  that,  in  all  probability, 
Raoul  was  among  them;  of  his  active  enmity,  linked 
in  some  mysterious  manner  with  David's  disappearance, 


A  SONG  AND  ITS  SEQUEL  261 

she  now  felt  certain.  Una  tried  to  gain  some  light  on 
the  subject  from  Narva;  but  the  latter  either  failed  to 
hear  the  ominous  sounds  to  which  her  attention  was 
called,  or  she  was  too  intent  on  her  present  mission  to 
admit  the  consideration  of  other  matters.  This  indif- 
ference, whether  real  or  feigned,  had  a  reassuring  effect 
on  Una.  She  perceived  that  if  these  invisible  people, 
friendly  or  unfriendly,  were  connected  with  them,  they 
would  attract  Narva's  attention,  while,  if  there  was  no 
connection — a  conclusion  suggested  by  the  sibyl's  unruf- 
fled bearing — there  was  nothing  to  fear  from  them. 

Having  reached  the  end  of  the  abrupt  downward  slope 
of  the  path  they  were  following,  Una  rejoiced  to  find 
herself  on  the  level  floor  of  a  valley  that,  in  the  upper 
world,  would  be  admired  for  its  charm  and  restfulness. 
There  were  neither  flower-decked  meadows,  it  is  true, 
nor  brook-fed  woodland  to  diversify  the  scene.  Sub- 
terranean botany,  however,  has  its  compensations  for 
losses  due  to  the  perpetual  absence  of  sun  and  rain. 
Evidently  the  light  from  the  luminous  mountain  had 
in  it  some  life-giving,  sustaining  quality,  for  on  every 
hand  in  this  valley  there  were  luxuriant  growths  of  deli- 
cately tinted  flowers — or  so  they  appeared — whose  scent, 
one  imagined,  filled  the  motionless  atmosphere.  Tall, 
graceful  forms,  resembling  willows,  clustered  along  the 
banks  of  a  little  stream  flowing  with  the  gentlest  of 
murmurs  through  their  midst.  The  flinty  ground  was 
carpeted  with  a  pale  lancet-leaved  herbage  that  might 
have  been  taken  for  grass  were  it  not  for  the  profu- 
sion of  sparkling  crystals  with  which  it  was  sprinkled. 
These  crystals  glowed  in  varying  and  sometimes  irides- 
cent colors,  showing  a  depth  and  solidity  of  substance 


262  THE  GILDED  MAN 

decidedly  out  of  keeping  with  a  purely  vegetable  origin. 
It  was  this  gem-like  appearance  of  what  might  have 
been  taken  elsewhere  for  richly  flowering  grasses  that 
led  Una  to  suspect  the  reality — judged  by  the  standards 
of  the  world  with  which  she  was  familiar — of  this  sub- 
terranean garden.  A  white  flower,  heavily  streaked  with 
crimson,  from  the  heart  of  which  long  golden  stamens 
were  thrust  in  a  drooping  cluster,  hung  on  its  stalk  con- 
veniently near.  Except  for  its  coloring,  and  a  square 
rather  than  spherical  modeling  of  the  calyx,  it  might 
easily  pass  for  one  of  the  lily  family.  To  make  sure 
Una  plucked  it.  From  the  broken  stem  a  tiny  stream 
of  water  bubbled  out,  and  the  flower  in  Una's  hands 
seemed  to  lose  at  once  the  soft  shimmer  of  light  that 
had  played  upon  its  petals  only  a  moment  before.  Most 
extraordinary  of  all  was  the  weight  of  the  flower.  Sus- 
pended from  its  stalk,  it  seemed  the  frailest,  daintiest 
of  objects;  a  blossom  that  the  merest  breeze  could  have 
tossed  about  at  will.  But  Una  found  it  as  heavy  as  so 
much  metal,  or  stone;  and  this,  with  the  clinking  to- 
gether of  its  leaves  as  they  were  moved  by  her  touch, 
revealed  the  startling  character  of  subterranean  botany. 
She  was  disappointed  at  first  to  find  that  this  was  not, 
in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word,  a  flower  at  all;  but 
regret  was  quickly  followed  by  curiosity  as  to  the  actual 
nature  of  the  strange  growth  she  held  in  her  hands.  Its 
unusual  weight  belied  the  delicacy  of  its  outward  appear- 
ance; the  fires  that  had  clothed  its  leaves  with  living 
tints,  in  dying  seemed  to  have  left  behind  the  pallor 
of  ashes.  Nevertheless,  it  retained  a  strange,  subtle 
beauty,  odorless,  undefinable.  It  might  be  a  rare  kind 
of  stalactite — except  that  a  stalactite  had  not  its  soft 


A  SONG  AND  ITS  SEQUEL  263 

brilliancy — or  a  sheaf  of  gems,  one  of  the  many  that 
strewed  this  subterranean  valley.  Whatever  it  was,  it 
reminded  Una,  however  faintly,  of  the  glories  of  the  outer 
world — and  she  cherished  it  for  this  more  than  for  its 
own  beauty.  Narva,  roused  for  the  first  time  from  the 
spell  of  her  own  thoughts,  shook  her  head  in  disapproval 
of  what  Una  had  done.  Evidently  she  questioned  her 
right  to  pluck  the  flower,  for  she  motioned  to  her  to 
throw  it  away. 

"The  Queen's  garden!"  she  exclaimed  in  tones  of 
rebuke. 

As  this  was  the  first  definite  intimation  of  their  where- 
abouts, Una  was  quick  to  seize  upon  it.  This  mys- 
terious queen,  then,  of  whom  Narva  had  vaguely  spoken 
before,  was  really  mixed  up  in  their  present  expedition. 
She  recalled  Narva's  hint  that,  in  some  way,  Una  was 
to  be  of  assistance  to  her,  and  she  wondered  whether 
this  meant  that  they  were  bringing  rescue  of  some  sort 
to  the  queen,  a  possibility  of  high  adventure  she  was 
far  too  young  not  to  relish.  A  queen,  moreover,  who 
cultivated  jewels — or  something  very  like  them — in  her 
garden  was  worthy  the  best  flowers  of  romance.  At  any 
rate,  Una  felt  a  new  zest  in  the  enterprise  she  was  on 
and  began  to  chafe  at  Narva's  leisurely  dignity. 

"It  is  plenty  of  time,"  said  the  old  Indian  sternly, 
noting  her  impatience,    "Have  care." 

As  she  spoke  she  pointed  straight  ahead  where  the  first 
direct  rays  from  the  mountain  peaks  flashed  downward 
illuminating  the  massive  building,  just  below  the  tower- 
crowned  summit  that,  at  a  distance,  had  so  completely 
won  Una's  admiration.  Seen  close  at  hand,  this  building 
gained  in  beauty.    Most  of  the  cave  dwellings,  like  the 


264  THE  GILDED  MAN 

one  inhabited  by  Narva,  were  hollowed  out  of  the  walls 
composing  this  underground  world.  The  palace,  how- 
ever, stood  alone,  surrounding  a  spacious  court  in  the 
center  of  which  played  a  fountain  whose  jets  of  water 
reflected,  in  a  sheaf  of  myriad  diamonds,  the  light 
glancing  athwart  it.  The  dazzling  effect  emphasized  the 
architectural  majesty  of  the  building  thus  illuminated. 
This  building  was,  for  the  most  part,  two  stories  in  height, 
ornamented  by  innumerable  turrets,  with  a  square  cen- 
tral tower  rising  above  an  arched  entrance,  the  iron-bound 
doors  of  which  seemed  stout  enough  to  withstand  a  siege. 
It  was  built  throughout  of  stone,  of  a  deep  yellow  tint, 
vivid,  glistening,  unlike  anything  Una  had  seen  in  the 
cave.  So  radiant  it  seemed,  so  full  of  light,  adorned 
with  such  delicate  tracery  wherever  the  design  of  the 
architect  admitted  the  play  of  ornament,  it  might  have 
been  a  fairy  palace,  each  stone  of  which  had  come  into 
place  over  night  with  the  waving  of  a  wand.  Narva 
pointed  to  a  heart-shaped  tablet  just  above  the  arched 
entrance,  upon  which  was  carved,  in  dark  red  stone,  the 
figure  of  a  condor,  similar  in  design  to  the  one  that  graced 
the  main  gateway  to  the  inhabited  portion  of  the  cave. 
"It  is  very  old,"  she  said.  "It  is  the  palace  of  my 
people  many  hundred  years — ah!  perhaps  thousands — - 
before  the  Spaniards  drove  them  off  the  earth.  Long 
ago,  in  those  days,  our  kingdom  was  not  in  a  cave. 
But  here,  always,  was  the  secret  palace  of  the  zipa.  Yes, 
we  lived  among  the  mountains  then,  and  this  was  our 
place  of  refuge  when  other  Indians  from  far  off  came 
to  plunder  us.  It  was  here  that  our  first  zipa  was 
brought  for  safety.  He  was  only  a  few  weeks  old  then. 
Hunters,  lost  on  a  high  mountain,  had  found  him  in  the 


A  SONG  AND  ITS  SEQUEL  265 

nest  of  a  condor.  How  he  came  there  no  one  has  ever 
known.  But  his  skin  was  perfectly  white,  not  like  ours; 
so  that  he  could  not  have  been  born  from  one  of  our 
race.  Perhaps  a  god  had  left  him  for  the  condors  to 
take  care  of — or  perhaps  it  was  a  condor,  flying  far  out 
of  sight  of  the  earth,  who  found  him  in  some  hidden 
place  in  the  sky,  and  brought  him  down  here  to  be  the 
ruler  of  the  earth.  But  here  he  was  guarded,  here  he 
grew  up.  And  when  he  became  a  man,  and  conquered 
-the  people  who  used  to  fight  with  us  and  destroy  our 
cities,  and  rob  us  of  our  wealth,  and  make  slaves  of 
us,  he  founded  this  Empire  of  the  Chibchas.  And  it 
was  after  that,  when  he  was  old  and  had  not  much  longer 
to  live,  that  he  built  this  great  palace,  to  be  the  secret 
home  of  his  children  whenever  their  enemies  became  too 
strong  for  them.  And  over  the  gate  of  the  palace,  where 
you  see,  he  placed  his  birth-sign,  the  Sign  of  the  Con- 
dor— the  secret  sign  of  this  under-world  and  of  all  his 
kingdom.  But  all  of  this  was  hundreds^ah!  thousands 
— of  years  ago.  And  all  those  years  this  palace  has 
stood  and  given  protection  to  the  children  of  that  first 
zipa,  he  who  was  carried  from  the  skies  to  be  reared  in 
the  nest  of  a  condor." 

The  fanciful  story,  the  fabulous  antiquity  claimed  for 
the  palace  before  her,  increased  the  sense  of  unreality 
and  mystery  filling  Una's  mind  as  she  listened  to  Narva. 
The  story  itself  was  not  unlike  others  of  the  kind,  handed 
down  from  one  generation  to  another,  explaining  the 
origin  of  some  ancient  South  American  race.  In  the  tell- 
ing of  it  Narva,  for  the  first  time,  forgot  her  reserve, 
and  her  simple  eloquence,  her  apparent  belief  in  the 
quaint  old  fable  she  was  telling,  added  greatly  to  its 


266  THE  GILDED  MAN 

impressiveness.  And  there  stood  the  great  palace  before 
her,  with  its  flying  condor  guarding  forever  the  descend- 
ants of  that  mythical  old  zipa!  Una  was  unable  to  go 
back  in  imagination  to  that  primeval  past,  especially 
as  it  had  to  do  with  a  country  and  a  people  of  which  she 
knew  nothing.  But  the  tale  itself,  and  the  grace  and 
beauty  of  the  palace  about  which  it  had  been  woven, 
reminded  her  of  much  that  she  had  heard  and  read  in 
other  than  Indian  mythology  and  literature.  Pageants 
from  medieval  legend,  with  their  phantom  castles  in 
haunted  forests,  engaged  her  fancy  as  she  listened.  For 
the  moment  she  half  expected  to  see  a  troop  of  Arthurian 
knights,  intent  upon  some  mystic  quest,  issue  forth 
from  the  stately  portal,  bringing  with  them  a  flash  of 
vivid  light  and  movement  that  as  yet  the  picture  lacked. 
A  zipa  she  had  never  seen,  had  never  heard  of  before 
— and  even  a  condor  filled  a  place  in  her  imagination 
that  was  not  much  more  real  than  that  occupied  by  the 
roc,  the  giant  bird  of  the  Arabian  tales.  But  neither 
Christian  knight  nor  pagan  zipa  was  here.  The  silence, 
now  that  Narva  had  finished  her  tale,  was  profound. 
The  murmur  of  voices,  distinctly  heard  a  short  time 
before,  was  lost  in  the  distance.  The  apparent  isola- 
tion of  a  building  so  rich  in  possibilities  of  usefulness, 
so  well  preserved  architecturally,  was  its  most  inex- 
plicable feature.  Una  was  almost  persuaded  that  the 
palace  before  her  was  uninhabited,  abandoned.  If  it 
belonged,  as  Narva  said,  to  the  dim  past  of  a  vanished 
race,  it  stood  now  merely  as  a  monument  to  forgotten 
greatness.  Or — did  it  still  serve  as  a  refuge,  a  pro- 
tection, to  the  descendants  of  that  condor-born  zipa  of 
Narva's  legend? 


A  SONG  AND  ITS  SEQUEL  267 

Then,  suddenly,  as  Una  was  thinking  of  these  an- 
cient, far-off  things,  from  one  of  the  wings  of  the  palace 
there  rose  the  clear,  high  notes  of  a  woman's  voice  in 
a  melody  not  unlike  the  one  Anitoo  and  his  band  had 
used  for  a  marching  song.  But  Anitoo 's  song  had  some- 
thing of  martial  swing  and  vigor  in  it;  this,  although 
wild  in  spirit,  permeated  by  the  chanting,  wailing  qual- 
ity characteristic  of  primitive  music,  thrilled  with  strains 
of  passionate  tenderness  unlike  anything  Una  had  heard. 
The  words  of  the  song  were  not  distinguishable,  nor 
'Were  they  needed  to  convey  the  theme  inspiring  the  in- 
visible singer.  The  latter  seemed  to  pass  from  joy  to 
despair,  rising  again  to  a  solemn  pitch  of  intensity  that 
partook  of  the  dignity  and  earnestness  of  religious  rhap- 
sody. A  pagan  priest,  presiding  over  ancient  rites  from 
which  the  faithful  expect  a  miracle,  might  thus  have 
modulated  the  notes  of  his  incantation.  As  in  all  music 
of  the  kind,  the  emotion  portrayed  was  simple,  unmixed 
with  the  shadings  and  intellectual  complexities  that  play 
so  important  a  part  in  modern  song.  The  voice  inter- 
preting this  emotion  showed  no  great  degree  of  culti- 
vation. Unskilled  in  the  nicer  subtleties  of  the  vocal 
art,  it  depended  upon  a  natural,  unrestrained  sincerity, 
enriched  by  a  birdlike  clearness  and  resonance,  for  its 
effects.  Its  plaintiveness,  from  the  very  first  strains 
of  the  ringing  melody,  appealed  deeply  to  Una. 

Narva,  alive  to  the  sympathetic  response  aroused  in 
her  companion  by  the  song,  laid  her  hand  gently  upon 
Una's  arm  and  drew  her  in  the  direction  of  the  distant 
portion  of  the  palace  from  whence,  apparently,  the 
notes  came. 

"Have  care,  say  nothing!"  she  repeated  impressively. 


268  THE  GILDED  MAN 

Una,  still  absorbed  by  the  weird  beauty  of  the  scene 
and  the  strange  legends  with  which  it  was  connected, 
scarcely  noted  the  reiterated  warning.  Her  own  spirit 
kindled  with  friendly  warmth  for  the  singer  whose  min- 
gled joys  and  sorrows  were  so  eloquently  expressed. 
She  followed  Narva  almost  unconsciously,  eager,  and 
yet  half  afraid  to  reach  the  climax  of  their  adventure; 
fearful,  likewise,  lest  by  some  misstep  or  imprudence  of 
theirs  the  spell  of  music  should  be  broken. 

No  sign  of  life  was  visible  in  the  great  rambling  pal- 
ace that  loomed  high  above  them.  The  rows  of  lance- 
olated  openings,  that  in  the  distance  appeared  to  be 
ordinary  windows,  upon  a  nearer  view  proved  to  be  un- 
glazed — or,  if  they  were  fitted  with  glass  it  was  too 
thick  to  reveal  to  an  outsider  the  interior  of  the  palace. 
That  some  kind  of  vitreous  substance  filled  these  open- 
ings was  evident  from  the  flashes  of  light  reflected  on 
their  surface.  Considering  the  antiquity  of  the  build- 
ing, however,  and  the  unknown  methods  and  materials 
employed  by  its  architect,  it  was  more  likely  that  the  sub- 
stance used  for  windows  was  a  crystal  gathered,  perhaps, 
from  the  queen's  garden — the  flower  from  those  alluring 
bushes  that  had  first  caught  Una's  attention— rather  than 
manufactured  glass  that  must  have  been  unknown  to  these 
Andean  cavemen.  Even  though  the  first  zipa  was  the 
reputed  offspring  of  stars  or  condors,  it  was  not  likely 
that  in  building  his  palace  thousands  of  years  ago — to 
quote  Narva's  estimate — he  had  been  able  to  fit  it  with 
modern  improvements. 

Owing  to  the  thickness  of  these  windows,  therefore, 
it  was  impossible  to  make  out  anything  of  the  interior 
of  the  apartments  of  the  palace  for  which  they  were, 


A  SONG  AND  ITS  SEQUEL  269 

apparently,  intended  to  serve  for  light.  A  close  approach, 
right  under  the  palace  walls,  revealed  nothing  more 
than  could  be  seen  at  a  distance;  and  as  Narva  avoided 
the  great  central  entrance,  it  appeared  to  Una  that  the 
mystery  which  so  fascinated  her  was  to  remain  unsolved. 
An  abrupt  angle  in  the  building,  however,  brought  them 
suddenly  within  a  little  portico,  extending  between  two 
massive  towers  jutting  out  from  the  main  structure,  the 
existence  of  which  came  as  a  complete  surprise.  On 
the  side  of  this  portico  away  from  the  palace  clung  a 
'vine  of  pale  green  foliage,  starred  with  white  and  crim- 
son flowers  similar  to  those  in  the  Queen's  Garden,  form- 
ing with  its  delicate  festoons  a  cloistered  way  that  had 
a  subtle  attractiveness  amidst  the  imposing  lines  and 
columns  of  the  huge  edifice  rising  above  it. 

Here  Narva  and  her  companion  paused,  listening  to 
the  wild  melody  coming  to  them  in  a  clear  rush  of  sound. 
At  the  other  end  of  the  portico,  leaning  against  the  side 
of  a  long  latticed  window  standing  partly  open,  they 
could  see  the  singer,  her  face  turned  to  the  apartment 
within,  one  arm  encircling  a  lyre-shaped  instrument  the 
strings  of  which  were  lightly  touched  by  the  fingers  of 
her  right  hand.  The  long  white  drapery  in  which  she 
was  clothed  scarcely  stirred  with  the  movement  from 
her  playing,  while  the  upward  poise  of  her  head,  with 
its  masses  of  dark  hair  flowing  downward  over  her  shoul- 
ders, indicated  the  rapt  intensity  with  which  she  voiced 
the  passion  of  her  song.  Apparently  she  was  alone. 
The  semi-obscurity  of  the  apartment,  however,  at  the 
entrance  to  which  she  stood,  might  have  screened  effec- 
tively from  an  outsider  any  one  who  was  within. 

For  the  first  few  moments  the  appearance  of  Una 


270  THE  GILDED  MAN 

and  Narva  at  the  far  end  of  the  portico  was  unnoticed. 
Then,  as  the  music  died  away,  the  singer  turned  and 
slowly  approached  them,  her  manner  showing  neither 
surprise  nor  displeasure  at  their  presence.  As  her  glance 
fell  upon  them  Narva  made  a  low  obeisance  with  a  ges- 
ture evincing  the  most  profound  self-abasement.  In 
grace  and  majesty  of  bearing  the  being  whom  she  thus 
saluted  was  worthy  her  homage.  Tall  and  nobly 
proportioned,  serene  of  countenance  and  of  a  faultless 
beauty,  the  deference  of  those  about  her  seemed  a  nat- 
ural tribute  to  her  queenliness.  That  high  rank  be- 
longed to  her  by  right  was  suggested  by  a  gold  coronet 
encircling  her  head.  In  the  center  of  this  coronet 
gleamed  an  emerald  of  a  size  and  purity  rare  even  to 
Bogota,  the  land  of  emeralds.  An  engaging  womanliness, 
however,  softened  the  dignity  of  her  carriage,  the  luster 
of  this  emblem  of  her  royalty.  To  Narva,  prostrate 
before  her,  she  stretched  out  a  hand  with  affectionate 
eagerness,  speaking  to  her,  at  the  same  time,  in  a  tongue 
unintelligible  to  Una. 

Saluting  her  again  with  the  utmost  reverence,  the  aged 
sibyl  apparently  answered  her  questions.  She  then  con- 
tinued a  voluble  relation,  the  main  purpose  of  which,  as 
Una  surmised,  had  to  do  with  the  finding  of  strangers 
in  the  cave.  During  this  recital  the  being  whom  Narva 
addressed  regarded  Una  intently,  her  gaze  manifesting 
an  interest  she  was  at  no  pains  to  conceal.  Having 
heard  Narva  to  the  end  she  slowly  approached  Una  and, 
to  the  latter 's  amazement,  spoke  to  her  in  English. 

"I  am  Sajipona,"  she  said.  "Some  call  me  Queen  of 
the  Indians;  I  am  a  queen;  but,  of  my  kingdom,  this 
last  home  of  itty  fathers  is  all  that  your  people  have  left 


A  SONG  AND  ITS  SEQUEL  271 

me.  Deep  underground,  hidden  from  all  men,  few  there 
are  who  know  of  its  existence — and  we  guard  the  secret, 
if  need  be,  with  our  lives.  Against  our  law  you  have 
ventured  here.    Why  have  you  come?" 

To  the  abrupt  inquiry  Una  had  no  answer  ready.  She 
hesitated;  then,  recalling  her  mission,  she  returned  the 
gaze  of  her  questioner  with  an  awakened  courage  that 
went  well  with  her  maidenly  beauty. 

''I  seek  one  who  is  dear  to  me,"  she  replied. 

"Why  do  you  think  he  is  here?"  demanded  Sajipona. 

"Once,  years  ago,  he  was  lost.  It  is  said  he  was  in 
this  cave.  Now  he  has  disappeared  again — and  we  look 
for  him  here.  I  know  nothing  of  your  law.  You  are 
good — I  am  sure  of  it — I  beg  of  you  to  help  me." 

The  appeal  was  impulsively  made.  A  smile  of  sym- 
pathy lighted  the  features  of  the  queen,  followed  by 
a  look  of  pain.  Her  cheeks  paled,  the  hand,  still  clasp- 
ing the  lyre  upon  which  she  had  been  playing,  trembled. 
Averting  her  gaze,  she  turned  towards  the  window  where 
she  had  first  been  standing. 

"Why  should  I  help  you?"  she  said.  "You  have 
broken  our  law." 

"We  didn't  know  of  your  law.  All  we  want  is  to  find 
him." 

"If  the  man  you  seek  is  here  of  his  own  will,  why 
should  I  help  you  find  him?  He  may  wish  to  remain 
unknown." 

"You  do  not  know,"  said  Una  eagerly.  "A  strange 
thing  happened  before.  It  may  be — how  can  I  explain? 
It  all  sounds  so  improbable! — it  may  be  he  is  not  him- 
self." 

Sajipona  laughed  ironically. 


272  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"Strange  indeed!  And  it  will  be  hard  for  you  to 
explain.    How  can  he  be  not  himself?" 

"If  he  has  forgotten — if  he  has  lost  his  memory " 

"His  memory?  What  riddles  you  talk!  How  does 
one  lose  one's  memory?  And  if  he  has  lost  his  memory, 
can  you  bring  it  back  to  him  then?"  asked  Sajipona 
impatiently. 

"I  think  he  would  remember  me,"  said  Una  simply. 

Sajipona's  face  showed  her  skepticism.  "We  shall  see," 
she  said. 

"Then  you  know  where  he  is?  He  is  here?"  cried 
Una. 

But  her  question  brought  no  direct  response.  Instead, 
Sajipona  turned  to  the  old  Indian  who,  during  this  brief 
colloquy,  had  shown  signs  of  uneasiness.  She  now  placed 
her  fingers  to  her  lips  and  pointed  with  her  other  hand 
to  the  apartment  in  the  palace  whence  Sajipona  had  just 
made  her  appearance. 

"Yes,"  repeated  the  queen,  "we  shall  see." 

The  three  women  turned  to  the  open  lattice  window 
at  the  other  end  of  the  portico.  Objects  in  the  room 
beyond  were  at  first  indistinct,  but  as  the  eye  became 
accustomed  to  the  darkness  the  whole  interior  took  on 
more  definite  outlines.  Una  could  see  that  the  apart- 
ment was  furnished  in  barbaric  luxury.  Golden  shields 
gleamed  on  the  walls;  hangings,  rich  in  color  and  mate- 
rial, were  draped  from  the  ceiling;  massive  cabinets, 
ornately  carved  and  encrusted  with  gold,  stood  in  distant 
alcoves  of  the  room.  But  all  these  curious  evidences  of 
a  bygone  art  were  barely  noted,  the  attention  being  drawn 
to  the  one  living  occupant  within.  Lying  on  a  sort  of 
divan,  at  some  distance  from  the  window,  was  the  figure, 


A  SONG  AND  ITS  SEQUEL  273 

apparently,  of  a  man.  He  was  moving  restlessly,  as  if 
awaking  from  sleep.  While  Una  looked,  he  rose  and 
stood  irresolutely  in  the  center  of  the  room,  one  arm 
flung  across  his  face  to  shield  his  eyes  from  the  light. 
Then,  slowly  walking  to  the  window,  as  if  looking  for 
some  one,  his  arm  dropped  to  his  side  and,  leaning 
across  the  lattice,  he  called: 

"Sajipona!" 

It  was  David. 


XVIII 

SUBTERRANEAN   PHOTOGRAPHY 

AT  first  he  did  not  see  Una.  His  glance  wandered 
dreamily  off  in  the  distance  and  then,  recalled,  as 
if  by  the  sudden  disappearance  of  some  idle  fancy,  fixed 
itself  upon  Sajipona.  A  smile  of  satisfaction  passed  over 
his  features  as  he  came  out  to  meet  her. 

"Why  did  you  stop  singing?"  he  asked,  in  a  voice 
that  was  almost  inaudible.     "I  missed  you." 

"Some  one  is  here  to  see  you,"  she  said,  ignoring  the 
question. 

David  turned  to  Una.  One  would  have  said  that  he 
had  not  seen  her  before,  although  in  her  presence  he 
betrayed  a  strange  sort  of  agitation.  Their  eyes  met. 
He  took  the  hand  she  eagerly  stretched  out  to  him,  then 
slowly  relinquished  it,  perplexed,  vaguely  conscious  of 
the  other's  emotion. 

"I'm  certain  I've  seen  her  before,"  he  said,  half  jok- 
ingly, half  in  irritation,  addressing  Sajipona,  "but  I 
can't  remember  when  or  where.  For  the  life  of  me  I 
can't  tell  who  she  is.  As  for  her  name,  I  ought  to  know 
that " 

"Una I    Una!     Surely  you  remember,  David?" 

"David!  But  of  course  you  told  her  my  name,  Saji- 
274 


SUBTERRANEAN  PHOTOGRAPHY    275 

pona.  Did  you  tell  her  your  pretty  fancy,  about  the 
EI  Dorado,  the  Gilded  Man?" 

"Surely,  you  remember  my  name — Una?" 

"Una — Una,"  he  repeated  uneasily.  "It  sounds  famil- 
iar— I'm  sure  I've  heard  it — but  I  can't  exactly  place 
it.  Strange!  How  perfectly  familiar  it  is;  yet,  I  can't 
place  it,  I  can't  place  it!  It's  a  beautiful  name — I'm  sure 
I  used  to  think  so — and  you  are  beautiful,  too,  Una!" 

Her  name,  pronounced  in  the  accents  she  loved  so 
well,  brought  a  flood  of  memories  that,  she  felt,  must 
thrill  him  too.  And  yet — there  he  stood  before  her, 
the  David  she  had  always  known,  but  now  subtly 
changed,  troubled,  unseeing.  Amazement  robbed  her  of 
words.  He  had  forgotten  her.  To  Sajipona,  however, 
more  keenly  observant  even  than  Una,  it  was  evident 
that  an  undercurrent  of  recognition  on  the  part  of  David 
was  hopelessly  held  in  check  by  sheer  inability  to  re- 
member. His  manner,  moreover,  indicated  a  mental  un- 
easiness, pain,  that  could  not  fail  to  excite  sympathy. 

"When  you  left  us  at  Honda,"  began  Una,  "we  ex- 
pected to  follow  right  after.  Then  we  heard  you  had 
disappeared " 

Laughing  mirthlessly,  David  placed  both  hands  to  his 
head  in  hopeless  bewilderment. 

"It  sounds  like  some  dream  I  might  have  had  years 
ago.  I  can't  make  it  real,"  he  said  deprecatingly.  "It's 
no  use — I  can't  remember.  Indeed,  I  almost  believe 
you  are  chaffing  me.  But — it's  really  too  serious  a  thing 
to  joke  about.  You  will  tell — Una,"  he  added,  ad- 
dressing Sajipona,  "how  long  I've  been  here,  how  kind 
you've  been  to  me  ever  since  I  came  back,  so  ill  I  could 
scarcely  look  out  for  myself." 


2  76  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"Ever  since  you  came  back?"  repeated  Una,  seizing 
upon  the  clew.  ''Then  you  have  not  always  been  here? 
You  know  the  world  outside  of  this  cave?  You  were 
here  once  before,  and  then  went  away?  Where  were 
you?    Try  to  remember." 

"Why,  yes,"  said  David,  mystified  more  than  ever; 
"of  course  I've  been  away.  I  remember  moving  about 
a  great  deal,  visiting  many  countries,  seeing  many  peo- 
ple. But  I  don't  remember  who  any  of  them  were — 
I  can't  recall  a  single  thing  plainly,  not  a  name,  not  a 
face.  Sajipona  has  tried  to  help  me.  She's  very  patient 
about  it.  But,  so  far,  it  has  been  no  use — and  it's  pain- 
ful, I  can  tell  you,  trying  to  remember  these  things. 
I  feel  comfortable,  entirely  at  peace,  only  when  Sajipona 
sings.  There's  nothing  like  her  singing.  I  could  listen 
to  her  forever,  forgetting  even  to  try  to  remember — if 
you  know  what  that  means." 

"But  I  want  you  to  remember,"  interrupted  Sajipona. 
"You  must  try — never  mind  how  painful  it  is.  You 
know  how  much  depends  on  that  for  both  of  us." 

"Yes,  I  know.  That's  why  I  try.  I  believe  that 
when  I  am  entirely  well  again  it  will  all  come  right.  All 
those  dark  dreams  and  things  that  bother  me  now  will 
be  cleared  away  and  I  will  be  completely  myself.  Then 
it  will  be  as  you  say.  We  will  be  perfectly  happy  to- 
gether." 

Involuntarily  the  two  women  looked  at  each  other. 
David,  standing  between  them,  calmer  than  before,  re- 
mained silent,  unconscious  of  the  effect  of  his  words. 

"You  must  explain  what  you  mean,"  Sajipona  said 
to  him  firmly,  after  a  moment  of  irresolution. 


SUBTERRANEAN  PHOTOGRAPHY    277 

Aroused  from  his  revery,  he  looked  in  perplexity 
from  one  to  the  other.  Then  his  brow  cleared  and  he 
laughed  softly. 

"Oh,  yes!  You  see — Una — Sajipona  is  very  beauti- 
ful; and  she  is  just  as  good  as  she  is  beautiful.  I  owe 
her  everything.     When  I  am  completely  myself  again. 

as  I  said,  she  has  promised You  see,  I  have  told 

her  that  I " 

The  wprds  died  away  as  he  looked  at  Una.  Her  face 
showed  neither  anxiety  nor  surprise,  but  a  deep  tender- 
ness and  melancholy.  At  the  sight  of  her  he  seemed 
to  lose  the  thread  of  what  he  had  to  say.  He  was  mys- 
tified, pitiably  torn  between  the  struggles  of  a  memory 
that  remained  tongueless,  and  the  realities  of  a  situation 
that  seemed,  somehow,  peculiarly  unreal.  Wistfully  he 
held  out  his  hand  to  the  girl  whose  beauty  thus  moved 
him,  then  hastily  withdrew  it,  turning  as  he  did  so  to 
Sajipona. 

"Your  song  was  very  soothing,  my  queen,"  he  said 
ruefully.  "I  fear  I  am  not  quite  myself  as  yet.  Something 
is  wrong — something  new.  This  lady — Una — you  will 
forgive  me?" 

"Try  to  remember,"  she  said  earnestly;  "there's  noth- 
ing to  forgive." 

"There's  nothing  to  remember,"  he  said  disconsolately. 
"I  have  tried — but  I  begin  to  think  it's  all  a  mistake." 

He  turned  abruptly,  leaving  them  to  go  to  the  room 
whence  he  had  come  a  moment  before.  As  he  reached 
the  open  window  he  paused  irresolutely. 

"You  will  not  go?"  he  said,  his  eyes  meeting  Una's. 

"David!"  was  all  her  answer. 


278  THE  GILDED  MAN 

He  shook  his  head  mournfully,  hesitated,  then  slowly 
passed  into  the  darkened  chamber  beyond. 

The  two  women  regarded  each  other  in  silence.  In 
Sajipona's  glance  there  was  proud  defiance;  with  Una 
anxiety  had  changed  to  determination.  The  wordless 
duel  of  emotions  was  interrupted  by  Narva,  who,  until 
now,  had  remained  in  the  background.  Upon  David's 
withdrawal  the  old  sibyl  shook  off  her  reserve  and  ad- 
dressed herself  reverently  to  Sajipona. 

"His  old  enemy  is  here,"  she  announced;  "there  is 
danger." 

Narva's  news  did  not  bring  the  alarm  that  any  one 
would  have  supposed  it  would  bring.  Instead,  Sajipona's 
look  of  anxiety  vanished.  A  flash  of  anger  gleamed  in 
her  eyes.  Then  she  smiled  with  an  eager  air  of  triumph, 
grasping  the  old  Indian's  arm  as  if  urging  her  to  say 
more. 

"You  mean  the  American,  Raoul  Arthur?"  she  asked. 
"Is  he  here?  I  want  him.  I  have  waited  for  him.  But, 
I  didn't  see  him.    Are  you  sure  that  he  is  here?" 

Narva  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "He  comes  for  no 
good,"  she  said.  "At  last  he  finds  the  way  from  Guata- 
vita.  He  seeks  treasure.  With  him  are  traitors  to  the 
Land  of  the  Condor.  He  fought  Anitoo.  He  conquered 
him.  He  is  on  his  way  to  the  palace.  I  heard  him 
with  his  men  on  the  iron  path.  They  are  many.  Defend 
yourself,  Sajipona!     We  have  very  little  time." 

The  appeal  was  received  exultantly.  From  Una,  how- 
ever, there  came  a  cry  of  dismay. 

"If  there  is  danger,"  she  exclaimed,  "what  will  become 
of  my  uncle  and  the  others?" 

Narva  chuckled  to  herself.     "There  is  no  danger  to 


SUBTERRANEAN  PHOTOGRAPHY    279 

them,"  she  said.  "The  fat  man  will  have  trouble  to 
run,  and  the  old  woman  will  die  because  she  is  always 
afraid." 

Her  grim  humor  fell  on  unappreciative  ears.  At 
Sajipona's  rebuke  she  lapsed  again  into  silence,  first  giv- 
ing a  grudging  explanation  of  what  she  had  done  with  the 
party  of  explorers.  The  latter,  it  appeared,  were  prac- 
tically prisoners  where  Narva  and  Una  left  them.  There 
they  must  remain,  unless  they  were  discovered  by  the 
hostile  band  that  was  believed  to  have  invaded  the  cave, 
in  which  case  their  release  would  mean  capture  by  Raoul 
and  his  men.  The  possible  consequences  of  this  in- 
creased Una's  alarm,  and  at  Sajipona's  command  Narva 
grumblingly  set  forth  to  effect  their  rescue.  As  suc- 
cess depended  on  her  speed,  Una  was  prevented  from 
returning  with  her.  She  was  thus  left  alone  with  Saji- 
pona,  whose  plans  regarding  David  now  absorbed  her 
attention.  Here,  however,  she  encountered  a  reserve 
which  she  could  not  break.  Every  attempt  to  gain  in- 
formation was  repelled,  and  in  a  manner  intimating  that 
Una's  interest  in  David  was  unwarranted  by  any  pre- 
vious friendship  between  them. 

"He  does  not  know  you,"  exclaimed  Sajipona  exult- 
antly, but  with  a  note  of  uneasiness  that  was  not  lost  on 
the  other. 

Una,  concerned  for  David's  safety,  ignored  the  un- 
spoken challenge. 

"What  is  to  become  of  him?  Why  is  he  here?"  she 
demanded. 

"What  is  that  to  you?"  was  the  fierce  retort.  "He 
doesn't  know  even  your  name.  He  is  happy.  He  de- 
pends on  me." 


28o  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"That  may  be.  But  there  is  a  mystery.  Tell  me 
what  it  all  means.  If  he  is  happy,  if  there  is  nothing 
more  to  be  said  or  done,  I  will  go.    Only — tell  me." 

"You  will  not  go — not  until  there  is  no  longer  a  mys- 
tery, as  you  call  it." 

The  announcement  sounded  like  the  sentence  of  a 
judge,  from  which  there  is  no  appeal.  It  reminded  Una 
that  she  was  in  the  power  of  one  who  had  shown  towards 
her  an  inflexible  will.  At  the  same  time  she  was  con- 
scious of  a  softening  in  Sajipona's  attitude  that  was  both 
mystifying  and  reassuring.  This  beautiful  Indian  girl 
had  at  first  resented  Una's  presence.  She  had  regarded 
the  other  with  queenly  scorn,  and  had  not  disguised  the 
jealous  impatience  kindled  by  the  brief  and  futile  inter- 
view with  David.  Now  this  impatience  had  given  place 
to  a  deeper  emotion  that  was  less  easily  understood.  It 
might  be  of  kindlier  import,  an  unexpected  relenting 
from  the  harsh  mood  that  apparently  weighed  Una's 
every  word  and  act  with  suspicion.  Still,  it  was  possible 
that  beneath  this  newly  awakened  generosity  there  lurked 
something  sinister,  a  deliberate  purpose  to  lead  the  other 
to  a  confession  that  would  be  her  own  undoing.  Of  this, 
however,  Una  had  little  fear.  By  nature  trustful  of 
those  about  her,  she  did  not  look  for  harm  to  herself 
from  one  so  young,  so  beautiful,  and  who  now,  at  any 
rate,  appeared  anxious  to  atone  for  her  former  enmity 
by  a  graciousness  equally  marked. 

"There  is  nothing  to  fear,"  said  Sajipona,  as  if  read- 
ing her  thoughts.  "Narva  will  protect  your  people. 
There  is  danger  only  from  your  friend,  this  Raoul 
Arthur " 

"He  is  not  my  friend!"  exclaimed  Una. 


SUBTERRANEAN  PHOTOGRAPHY   281 

Sajipona  smiled.  "We  will  soon  see,"  she  said.  "This 
is  the  Land  of  the  Condor,  all  that  is  left  to  an  ancient 
race  that  once  ruled  over  many  nations.  For  centuries 
the  poor  remaining  handful  of  my  people  have  man- 
aged to  live  unknown  in  this  little  corner  of  the  earth. 
You  are  the  first — except  one  other — from  the  outside 
world  to  find  your  way  into  this  forgotten  kingdom. 
When  you  will  be  free  to  return  to  the  outer  world  is 
not  for  me  to  say.  But,  you  are  here — my  guest.  Let 
us  have  it  that  way.    This  is  my  kingdom.    Enter!" 

They  did  not  pass  into  the  palace  through  the  en- 
trance used  by  David.  Back  of  where  they  stood,  at 
a  word  of  command  from  Sajipona,  a  large  door  swung 
open,  revealing  a  spacious  court  within  flooded  with  a 
clear  white  light  that  left  not  a  corner  or  angle  in 
shadow.  This  light  radiated  from  a  central  shaft  over' 
head,  at  first  indistinguishable  in  the  dazzling  intricacies 
of  the  ceiling  that  stretched  away  in  tier  upon  tier  of 
crystalline  columns  above  them.  Advancing  to  the  mid- 
dle of  this  court,  under  the  queen's  guidance,  Una  beheld, 
at  the  apex  of  the  vast  dome  curving  upward  to  a  seem- 
ingly immeasurable  distance,  a  large  opening  beyond 
which  blazed  a  great  ball  of  fire  suspended,  apparently, 
from  the  topmost  pinnacle  of  the  outer  cave.  The  rays 
from  this  underground  sun — for  it  is  only  as  a  sun  that 
it  can  be  adequately  described — shone  with  an  intensity 
that  was  fairly  blinding.  These  rays  flashed  and  spar- 
kled in  long,  waving  streamers  of  flame,  disappearing 
and  suddenly  renewing  their  radiance  with  a  ceaseless 
energy  similar  to  that  displayed  by  some  gigantic  dynamo 
whose  emanations  are  produced  by  a  concentration  of 
power  as  yet  unattempted  by  man.    Fascinated  by  this 


282  THE  GILDED  MAN 

splendor,  Una  realized  that  she  was  standing  beneath  the 
great  luminous  body  whose  magical  effects  she  had  first 
witnessed  while  approaching  the  palace  with  Narva. 
Shielding  her  eyes  from  a  spectacle  that  wearied  by  its 
vehemence,  she  turned  to  Sajipona.  But  Sajipona  was 
not  with  her.  Una  stood  alone  in  the  center  of  the 
great  court. 

At  another  time  this  sudden  isolation  would  have  been 
alarming.  But  the  many  strange  adventures  experienced 
during  the  last  few  hours  had  accustomed  Una  to  danger, 
so  that  the  disappearance  of  Sajipona  served  merely  to 
arouse  her  to  a  keener  sense  of  her  surroundings.  Her 
faith  in  this  beautiful  Indian,  moreover,  was  not  easily 
shaken,  in  spite  of  the  repellant  attitude  she  had  first 
assumed  towards  her.  Treachery  from  such  a  source, 
it  seemed  to  her,  was  inconceivable. 

Stepping  back  from  the  direct  rays  of  the  great  ball 
of  fire,  the  manifestations  of  whose  mysterious  power 
had  until  then  absorbed  her  attention,  Una  found  her- 
self in  the  midst  of  a  throng  of  people,  all  of  them, 
apparently,  watching  her.  By  their  dress,  simple  and 
flowing  as  that  worn  by  the  followers  of  Anitoo,  she 
perceived  these  were  cave  men  and  women,  some  forty 
or  fifty  in  number,  each  one  standing  motionless  along 
the  wall  farthest  from  her.  With  heads  bent  forward 
and  arms  outstretched  towards  the  center  of  the  court, 
where  Una  stood,  they  appeared  to  be  engaged  in  some 
sort  of  devotional  exercise,  the  visible  object  of  which 
was  a  great  round  disk  of  gold  set  in  the  tessellated  pave- 
ment that  flashed  beneath  the  light  pouring  upon  it  from 
above.  Inlaid  within  this  disk,  at  the  outer  rim  of  which 
she  had  been  standing  a  moment  before,  Una  could  now 


•  SUBTERRANEAN  PHOTOGRAPHY   283 

discern  cabalistic  figures  wrought  in  emeralds  whose 
deep  effulgence  was  in  striking  contrast  with  the  haze 
of  golden  light  surrounding  them.  The  intricate  design 
formed  by  these  figures  was  difficult  to  trace,  but  that 
each  figure,  and  the  pattern  into  which  it  was  woven, 
bore  a  mystical  meaning  was  suggested  by  the  rever- 
ence with  which  this  whole  glittering  pool  of  light  was 
regarded  by  the  silent  throng. 

Eagerly  Una  scanned  the  white-robed  worshipers 
•^before  her,  hoping  that  among  them  she  might  discover 
David.  Not  finding  him,  she  sought  Sajipona,  with  the 
same  disappointing  result  at  first.  Then  her  gaze,  wan- 
dering away  from  these  strange  faces,  rested  upon  a 
slightly  elevated  platform  at  one  end  of  the  court.  There, 
beneath  a  gold  and  gem-encrusted  canopy,  seated  upon 
a  massive  throne  of  pure  crystal,  she  beheld  the  Indian 
queen. 

From  the  first  Una  had  felt  the  spell  of  her  beauty, 
but  its  force  had  been  tempered  by  the  flashes  of  anger, 
the  suspicion,  the  disdain  that  had  alternately  marked 
their  intercourse.  Now,  although  arrayed  and  staged, 
as  it  were,  in  all  the  splendor  belonging  to  her  high  sta- 
tion— with  crown  and  scepter  and  glittering  robe  of 
state — this  proud  beauty  had  softened  to  an  almost  girlish 
loveliness,  wistful,  touched  with  a  melancholy  as  hopeless 
as  it  was  appealing.  That  she  was  a  queen,  aloof  from 
those  about  her,  seemed  strangely  pathetic.  Nor  did 
this  expression  of  sheer  womanliness  change  as  her  eyes 
met  Una's.  Across  the  width  of  the  great  presence 
chamber  a  mysterious  wave  of  sympathy  seemed  to  bind 
these  two  together.  Completing  its  wordless  message, 
Sajipona  arose  and  stood  expectantly  while  Una  ap- 


284  THE  GILDED  MAN 

proached,  the  throng  before  her  silently  falling  back  until 
she  reached  the  foot  of  the  throne.  Then,  with  hands 
clasped  in  greeting,  the  two  women  faced  each  other, 
the  enmity  that  first  had  sundered  them  apparently  for- 
gotten, or,  at  the  least,  held  in  check  by  some  subtler, 
purer  feeling.  Again  Una  wondered  if  this  could  be  gen- 
uine— if  the  suspicion  with  which  she  had  been  regarded 
at  first  might  not  still  lurk  behind  this  outward  gracious- 
ness.  Little  versed  in  the  arts  of  dissimulation,  however, 
and  apt  to  take  for  current  coin  whatever  offered  of 
friendliness,  she  accepted  this  unlooked-for  warmth  of 
welcome  with  undisguised  gratitude.  Sajipona  drew  her 
gently  forward  until  the  two  stood  side  by  side  on  the 
platform  facing  the '  great  court,  the  silent  groups  of 
attendants  below  them.  The  dazzling  light,  the  flashing 
splendor  of  columned  walls  and  vaulted  ceiling,  the  white- 
robed  figures,  the  jeweled  throne,  furnished  forth  a  faery 
spectacle  not  easily  forgotten. 

"These  are  my  people,"  said  Sajipoha  proudly.  "They 
will  protect  you  as  they  protect  me." 

As  if  in  answer  to  her  assurance  the  waiting  courtiers, 
absorbed  until  now  in  the  contemplation  of  the  mystical 
figures  within  the  circle  of  light  at  their  feet,  slowly 
turned  and  made  grave  obeisance  before  the  two  women 
standing  in  front  of  the  throne.  Following  this  sign  of 
submission,  they  came  forward  as  if  expectant  of  some 
further  command.  Sajipona  smilingly  watched  the  effect 
of  this  ceremony  on  her  companion. 

"Ah!  it  is  not  here  as  in  Bogota,"  she  said,  "or  in  the 
world  where  you  come  from,  far  from  Bogota.  You  think 
all  this  that  you  see  is  unreal — a  dream,  perhaps.  My 
people  are  so  different  from  yours — and  all  these  many 


SUBTERRANEAN  PHOTOGRAPHY    285 

years  they  live  forgotten,  unknown.  I  have  lived  in 
Bogota.  There  they  do  not  know  of  this  great  cave  that 
belonged  to  the  ancient  rulers  of  the  mountains.  They 
don't  know  that  I  am  queen  here,  or  of  this  palace  that 
is  mine — and  the  light  that  bums  like  the  sun.  Ah! 
I  wonder  what  your  wise  uncle  will  say  when  he  sees 
our  sun!" 

Sajipona  laughed  noiselessly,  with  the  half-concealed 
delight  that  a  child  hugs  to  itself  when  it  hides  some 
•simple  secret  from  the  eyes  of  its  elders.  Una,  more 
bewildered  than  ever  at  this  allusion  to  Leighton,  sought 
vainly  for  a  reasonable  explanation  of  the  marvels  sur- 
rounding her. 

"My  uncle!"  she  exclaimed.  "How  do  you  know  that 
he  is  wise — and  he  is! — and  that  he  is  here?  Yes,  this 
sun  of  yours — ^what  is  it,  where  does  it  come  from?" 

Again  Sajipona  laughed. 

"Remember,"  she  said,  "this  is  not  Bogota.  Out  there 
it  is  all  very  wonderful,  very  great.  You  have  the  sky, 
the  sun,  the  stars.  The  mountains  stretch  away  as  far 
as  the  eye  can  see;  there  are  plains,  cities;  and  there 
are  buildings  greater  than  any  we  have  here.  This  is 
a  toy  world,  you  will  say,  even  when  you  think  some 
things  in  it  very  wonderful.  But  you  do  not  guess  the 
half  of  what  is  here.  In  this  world  my  people  have  lived 
in  secret  for  centuries.  They  have  discovered  things 
that  even  the  wisest  of  your  people  know  nothing  of. 
We  have  eyes  that  see  everything  that  happens  in  our 
world  of  stone,  eyes  that  pierce  through  the  stones  them- 
selves. I  knew  when  you  came  into  our  kingdom;  I 
watched  you  when  you  passed  through  the  great  gate 


286  THE  GILDED  MAN 

where  the  others  were  fighting.  But — you  don't  believe 
me.    Come,  I  will  show  you." 

Sajipona  gave  her  hand  to  the  astonished  girl  and  the 
two  stepped  down  from  the  platform  where  they  were 
standing  and  made  their  way  to  the  center  of  the  court. 
Here  the  great  circle  of  light  cast  by  the  ball  of  fire 
overhead  gleamed  at  their  feet  like  an  unruffled  pool  of 
sun-kissed  water.  At  the  rim  of  this  circle  they  halted, 
Sajipona  gently  restraining  her  companion,  who,  in  her 
eagerness,  would  have  passed  on. 

"Look  there  on  the  floor,"  she  said.  "Your  eyes  may 
not  be  as  ours ;  perhaps  you  will  have  to  wait  before  you 
can  see.    But  it  will  come — you  will  see." 

Una  remembered  how  she  had  heard — and  laughed — 
of  magicians  who  pretended  to  read  the  future  by  gazing 
into  a  crystal  globe.  The  experiment  to  which  she  was 
now  invited  seemed  like  that,  only  here  it  was  appar- 
ently a  huge  mirror  of  reflected  light  that  she  was  told 
to  watch,  while  no  word  had  been  said  of  finding  therein 
a  revelation  of  things  to  come.  Nor  could  she  see  any- 
thing in  this  mirror  at  first.  Waves  of  light,  tongues  of 
leaping  flame,  passed  over  the  polished  surface  of  the 
metal,  here  darting  off  in  long  zigzag  streaks,  there  form- 
ing a  sort  of  pool  of  molten,  quivering  fluorescence,  as 
the  physicists  call  it,  varying  in  size  and  color,  then  van- 
ishing utterly.  Much  the  same  appearance  Una  remem- 
bered having  seen  on  the  surface  of  a  copper  kettle  when 
subjected  to  intense  heat.  But  in  this  case  there  was 
no  perceptible  heat  to  account  for  the  phenomenon,  which 
was  rather  electric  in  its  fantastic  weavings — a  redupli- 
cation, on  a  gigantic  scale,  of  the  wavering  finger  of  light 
that  she  had  watched  play,  with  such  fatal  results,  on 


SUBTERRANEAN  PHOTOGRAPHY    287 

her  uncle's  electric  psychometer.  The  resemblance,  rec- 
ognized with  a  shudder,  intensified  her  interest.  The 
succession  of  marvels  through  which  she  had  been  passing 
prepared  her  for  anything.  In  her  present  mood,  noth- 
ing would  have  surprised  her. 

"What  is  it?    What  is  it?"  she  asked  eagerly. 

Sajipona  followed  the  twisting  maze  of  figures  before 
them  with  unwonted  anxiety.  Her  usual  calm  demeanor 
was  gone.  She  appeared  to  be  reading  something  the 
purport  of  which  was  not  at  all  to  her  liking. 

"Look!"  she  exclaimed.  "There  he  is.  They  have 
let  him  pass  through  the  gate.  He  is  coming  here. 
Anitoo's  men  are  with  him." 

To  Una  the  words  were  meaningless.  Yet  she  knew 
that  her  companion  was  reading,  or,  rather,  witnessing 
something  that  was  passing  before  her  own  eyes,  and 
that  hence  should  have  been  quite  as  visible  to  her — if 
only  she  had  the  clew.  But  this  she  did  not  have.  She 
recognized  the  hint  of  danger.  She  knew  that  in  some 
way  Sajipona  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  some  one  whom 
she  counted  an  enemy.  She  felt  that  this  person  was  in 
some  way  connected  with  her  own  party;  and  then  the 
thought  of  Raoul  Arthur  flashed  across  her  mind,  at  the 
same  time  that  his  veritable  image — so  it  seemed — ^stood 
forth  in  wavering  lines  of  light  at  her  feet. 

"Save  David  from  him!"  she  cried  involuntarily. 

"You  see  him — you  know  him!" 

"He  came  in  with  us.  He  is  there — ^look!  I  don't 
know  by  what  invisible  power  you  have  conjured  up 
this  apparition,  but  it  is  real.  He  is  the  one  man  I  have 
feared — and  he  is  coming  here!" 

Sajipona  laughed  softly  to  herself. 


288  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"Ahl"  she  cried,  "now  you  have  our  secret.  Here  in 
this  ancient  hall,  under  this  sun  we  have  worshiped 
for  countless  ages,  nothing  is  hidden.  But  the  man  you 
fear,  that  you  see  there,  will  bring  freedom  to  us  both." 

Whatever  Sajipona  meant  by  her  enigmatical  words, 
the  fact  was  there,  the  living,  moving  likeness  of  Raoul 
Arthur,  in  the  light-woven  tapestry  at  Una's  feet. 
Eagerly  she  watched  him.  It  was  certainly  Raoul,  Raoul 
hurrying  towards  her,  growing  more  distinct,  more 
threatening  with  every  moment.  Behind  him  streamed 
a  shadowy  line  of  men — swiftly,  confidently — following 
a  trail  amid  the  jagged  rocks  and  precipices  of  the  cave 
that  might  well  have  daunted  the  boldest  spirits,  but 
which  seemed  powerless  to  retard  their  progress.  As 
Una's  eyes  became  accustomed  to  the  shifting  panorama 
before  her,  sundry  details  came  into  view  that  at  first  had 
been  unnoticed.  She  was  familiar  with  the  curious  phe- 
nomena wrought  by  the  camera  obscura,  and  this  sin- 
gular portrayal  on  the  gleaming  floor  of  Sajipona's 
palace  seemed  at  first  not  unlike  that  simple  method  of 
reproducing  objects  invisible  to  the  spectator.  But  as 
the  present  picture  grew  and  then  faded  away,  to  be  fol- 
lowed by  others  in  this  magic  pool  of  light,  she  knew  that 
what  she  now  beheld  was  quite  beyond  the  power  of  the 
cunningly  placed  lens  used  in  experiments  with  the  cam- 
era obscura  to  portray.  The  latter,  she  remembered, 
could  reproduce  objects  only  when  they  came  within  a 
certain  definite  distance  from  the  lens  itself.  But  here 
Raoul  Arthur  and  his  companions  moved  across  a  con- 
stantly changing,  lengthening  space.  Moreover,  she  rec- 
ognized the  path  they  were  following  as  the  one  over 
which  she  had  traveled  at  a  point  far  away  from  the 


SUBTERRANEAN  PHOTOGRAPHY    289 

palace.  They  had  reached,  indeed,  the  very  spot  where 
she  and  Narva  had  first  caught  sight  of  that  topmost 
pinnacle  of  the  cave,  behind  and  above  which  flamed 
the  great  ball  of  fire,  the  sun  of  this  subterranean  world. 
As  Sajipona's  palace  stood  at  the  base  of  this  pinnacle, 
she  calculated,  from  her  own  experience  of  the  journey, 
that  Raoul  and  his  followers  were  coming  directly 
towards  them. 

"There  is  nothing  to  fear,"  resumed  Sajipona,  as  if  in 
answer  to  her  thoughts.  "Be  glad  of  their  coming.  But 
— for  your  own  people  I  am  afraid." 

"Ah,  my  poor  uncle!  I  have  brought  him  into  all 
this  danger,"  exclaimed  Una.  "Where  is  he?  How  can 
I  save  him?" 

"Lookl" 

Eagerly  studying  the  portion  of  the  picture  indicated, 
Una  suddenly  found,  to  her  horror,  that  Raoul,  with 
that  vague,  shadowy  rabble  at  his  heels,  was  approaching 
another  group  of  people,  just  ahead,  among  whom  she 
recognized  the  gaunt  figure  of  Narva,  evidently  exasper- 
ated by  the  inability  of  the  others  to  keep  pace  with  her. 
Even  in  the  uncertain  lines  of  the  picture  the  scorn  dark- 
ening the  features  of  the  old  sibyl  was  easily  discernible. 
Behind  her  tottered  Mrs.  Quayle,  waving  her  arms  in 
helpless  protest,  supported  by  the  faithful  Andrew,  whose 
face  showed  an  even  greater  degree  of  woe  and  alarm 
than  usual.  They  were  closely  followed  by  Leighton, 
imperturbable  as  ever,  and  Miranda,  whose  irascible  rock- 
eting from  one  side  to  the  other  of  the  narrow  trail,  and 
whose  violent  gesticulations  manifested  all  too  plainly 
his  indignation.  Had  it  not  been  for  her  companions 
Narva  could  easily  have  outstripped  her  pursuers;  but 


490  THE  GILDED  MAN 

with  so  timorous  a  person  as  Mrs.  Quayle  this  seemed 
impossible.  The  hopelessness  of  it,  in  spite  of  all  his 
scolding  and  prodding,  had  evidently  convinced  Miranda 
of  the  necessity  for  a  change  of  tactics.  Further  flight 
being  a  mere  waste  of  energy,  there  was  left  the  alterna- 
tive of  parleying  with  the  enemy.  Hence,  without  stop- 
ping to  consult  with  General  Herran,  who  still  suffered, 
apparently,  from  his  wound,  and  who  plodded  patiently 
along  immediately  behind  Leighton,  the  doctor  suddenly 
came  to  a  standstill.  This  unexpected  halt  very  nearly 
toppled  over  the  others,  who  were  pressing  on  as  hard 
as  they  could  go  and  found  it  difficult  to  stop  on  the 
instant.  But  Miranda  did  not  heed  the  ludicrous  dis- 
order into  which  he  had  thrown  them.  Facing  quickly 
about,  and  with  arms  impressively  folded,  he  bestrode 
the  narrow  path  as  if  defying  any  one  who  might  be 
foolhardy  enough  to  challenge  him.  At  a  distance,  and 
without  hearing  the  torrent  of  abuse  with  which  he  evi- 
dently greeted  his  pursuers,  the  fiery  doctor  resembled 
a  small  terrier  disputing  the  right  of  way  with  a  pack 
of  hounds  hot  on  their  quarry.  What  he  lacked  in  physi- 
cal presence,  however,  Miranda  made  up  in  energy. 
Undaunted  he  stood  his  ground,  the  men  whom  he  ad- 
dressed halting  with  astonishment  depicted  on  their 
faces.  Then,  most  amazing  of  all,  he  wheeled  about, 
placed  himself  at  their  head  and,  waving  them  forward, 
strutted  along  as  if  he  had  been  their  chosen  leader. 

Amused  and  impressed  by  his  boldness,  the  men  were 
apparently  willing  at  first  to  accept  Miranda  for  their 
commander.  He  furnished  them  with  a  new  kind  of 
entertainment,  and  for  the  moment,  and  just  because 
they  did  not  understand  him,  it  seemed  as  if  they  recog- 


SUBTERRANEAN  PHOTOGRAPHY   i<^l 

nized  in  him  a  superiority  they  were  not  loath  to  follow. 
But  Raoul's  leadership  was  not  to  be  so  easily  super- 
seded.   Quickly  thrusting  Miranda  aside,  breathless  and 
triumphant  from  his  exertions,  the  wiry  American  angrily 
harangued  his  troops.     He  threatened  the  foremost  of 
them  with  a  pike  that  he  held  in  his  hand,  and  by  their 
downcast  looks  and  passive  demeanor,  it  was  evident 
that  his  words  and  gestures  had  brought  them  back  to 
a  recognition  of  his  authority.     Miranda,  still  shouting 
and  gesticulating,  was  ignominiously  left  to  shift  for 
himself,  while  the  cavemen,  obeying  Raoul's  command, 
swept  onward  until  they  reached  the  stupefied  group  of 
explorers  ahead  of  them.    Here  another  halt  was  ordered, 
and  Raoul  pointed  out  Mrs.  Quayle  to  his  men.     Four 
of  the  latter  promptly  left  the  ranks  of  their  comrades, 
went  forward  at  a  round  trot,  seized  the  horrified  lady, 
and  swung  her  up  to  their  shoulders  before  she  knew 
what  was  happening,  or  had    time  to  defend  herself. 
Thus  carried  by  two  of  the  men  and  held  in  place  by  the 
other  two,  she  was  speedily  brought  into  line  not  far 
behind  Raoul.    Leighton  evidently  protested  against  the 
sudden  capture  of  Mrs.  Quayle,  for  whose  safety  he  felt 
peculiarly  responsible.    But  his  appeal  was  waved  scorn- 
fully aside.    The  rest  of  the  explorers,  Miranda  included, 
seeing  that  further  resistance  was  futile,  and  that  they 
were   virtually    Raoul's   prisoners,    hopelessly    resigned 
themselves  to  their  fate  and  followed  along  with  the 
others.   A  signal  was  then  given,  and  the  entire  throng 
marched  rapidly  down  the  trail  to  the  palace.     Narva, 
however,  was  not  among  them.    In  the  commotion  that 
took  place  during  the  altercation  with  Miranda,  and  the 
subsequent  seizure  of  Mrs.  Quayle,  she  had  disappeared. 


292  THE  GILDED  MAN 

As  the  last  figures  in  this  strange  picture  faded  from 
view,  Sajipona  seized  Una's  arm.  The  waving  streams 
of  light  reflected  on  the  floor  had  again  become  mean- 
ingless. It  was  as  if  a  dream  had  suddenly  passed  before 
them,  leaving  them,  as  sleepers  awakening,  uncertain  of 
the  reality  of  what  they  had  witnessed. 

"Who  is  he?"  asked  Sajipona — "the  stout  man  who 
so  nearly  captured  these  traitors?" 

"A  friend,  a  doctor,  who  came  with  us." 

"He  is  brave!  But  it  is  strange  that  this  Raoul 
Arthur  could  free  himself  so  easily  from  Anitoo.  He 
must  have  killed  my  poor  Anitoo  to  do  that.  But  your 
friend  was  nearly  too  much  for  him!  Never  mind  if 
he  failed.    They  will  soon  be  here.    Let  us  be  ready!" 

Then,  turning  to  her  attendants  who  stood  in  a  circle 
at  a  distance  from  them,  she  cried: 

"Open  the  door!" 

Obeying  her  command,  two  of  the  cavemen  hurried 
to  the  farther  end  of  the  hall.  There  was  a  muffled 
sound  of  grating  stone,  and  then  the  two  leaves  of  the 
great  portal  swung  slowly  open,  revealing  the  glittering, 
silent  garden  of  the  palace  beyond. 


XIX 

A  queen's  conquest 

SURROUNDED  by  her  people,  the  ancient  diadem 
of  the  Chibchas,  with  its  great,  smouldering  emerald, 
on  her  head,  Sajipona  waited  at  the  entrance  to  the 
court.  Without,  the  motionless  flowers  and  shrubbery 
of  the  garden  were  steeped  in  a  pale,  quivering  light  out- 
lining every  object  with  a  weird  intensity  sharper,  yet 
more  indefinable  than  gleams  from  moon-drenched  skies. 
In  this  spectral  scene  the  cavemen  stood  in  rows,  like 
carven  statues;  even  Sajipona,  mobile,  versatile  of  mood, 
seemed  a  woman  of  marble. 

But  Una,  stirred  profoundly  by  the  picture  she  had 
seen,  doubtful  of  its  reality,  not  altogether  sure  of  her 
own  ground,  aware  of  the  dangers  that  threatened,  but 
ignorant  of  their  exact  character,  could  not  hide  her  anxi- 
ety. Seizing  Sajipona's  hand,  her  eyes  were  eloquent  of 
unspoken  questioning.  Her  mute  appeal  was  answered 
by  a  wistful  smile,  a  glance  at  once  gracious  and  sor- 
rowful. 

"For  you  there  is  no  danger,"  said  the  queen.  "For 
me — yes,  for  me  there  is,  perhaps,  danger." 

"How  can  that  be?" 

"You  fear  this  Raoul  Arthur.  It  is  not  for  you,  it  is 
for  me  he  has  come.    For  three  years  he  has  plotted  to 

293 


294  THE  GILDED  MAN 

do  this  thing.  My  own  kinsman,  Rafael  Segurra,  was 
in  league  with  him.  Before  now  he  has  attempted  to 
force  his  way  here.  The  two  together  found  their  oppor- 
tunity in  your  coming.  And  now — ^Arthur  has  escaped 
from  his  captors  and  again  seems  to  have  found  traitors 
among  my  people." 

"What  is  it  he  wants?" 

"You  ask  that — you  who  know  David  1" 

For  a  moment  the  anger  and  suspicion  with  which  she 
had  first  regarded  Una  kindled  in  Sajipona's  eyes.  But 
the  mood  vanished  as  quickly  as  it  came. 

"Surely,  you  remember  what  Narva  said,"  she  went 
on.  "He  seeks  treasure.  He  sought  it  with  David  three 
years  ago,  the  poor  treasure  belonging  to  what  is  left 
of  my  people.  Segurra  told  him  where  it  was,  how  to 
get  it." 

"Ah,  yes!"  exclaimed  Una.  "Now  I  knowl  The  treas- 
ure of  Guatavita,  of  El  Dorado,  it  is  here." 

"It  is  here — it  is  mine!"  said  Sajipona  sternly.  "It 
will  never  be  his.  Always  your  people  have  fought  for 
it,  have  sinned  and  died  to  make  it  theirs.  They  have 
driven  us  off  the  face  of  the  earth,  to  hide  for  centuries 
in  this  cave  and  in  that  other  land  that  as  yet  you  know 
nothing  of.  Here  we  have  made  our  world — and  we  will 
keep  what  is  ours,  unless  David " 

The  words  died  on  Sajipona's  lips.  At  the  far  end  of 
the  garden  the  heavy  branches  of  spectral  shrubbery 
swayed  and  parted,  revealing  a  majestic  figure  hastening 
toward  them.  It  was  Narva.  Gliding  along  the  path- 
way, she  showed  an  agitation  contrasting  strangely  with 
her  accustomed  reserve.     Reaching  the  entrance  to  the 


A  QUEEN'S  CONQUEST  295 

palace,  she  pointed  behind  her,  at  the  same  time  address- 
ing the  queen  in  words  unintelligible  to  Una. 

"Yes,  they  are  coming,"  said  Sajipona,  smiling  com- 
posedly.   "It  is  well.    There  is  nothing  to  fear." 

Narva  had  arrived  none  too  soon.  As  she  spoke  to  the 
queen,  shouts  were  heard  in  the  distance,  and  then  the 
tramp  of  approaching  footsteps.  Sajipona  advanced  to 
the  threshold  of  the  palace,  where,  signing  to  the  others 
to  remain  behind,  she  stood  alone,  awaiting  the  noisy 
intruders.  Her  defenseless  position  brought  bitter  pro- 
test from  Narva  that  was  supported  by  a  movement 
among  the  others  to  protect  their  queen.  This  was 
quickly  rebuked;  and  when  Raoul,  his  followers  and  the 
explorers  poured  into  the  garden  they  were  confronted 
by  a  group  of  men  and  women  who  gave  no  sign  of  un- 
easiness at  their  arrival. 

It  should  be  noted  here  that,  in  spite  of  his  defeat, 
pictured  in  the  pool  of  light,  Miranda  had  by  no  means 
relinquished  his  efforts  to  gain  control  of  Raoul's  men. 
He  had  followed  along  at  their  side,  irrepressible  in  his 
attempts  to  hold  their  attention — a  sort  of  gadfly  whose 
persistent  teasing  nothing  can  stop.  Raoul  would  have 
put  an  end  to  him,  once  and  for  all ;  but  in  this  he  found 
that  his  men,  pacific  by  nature  and  training,  would  not 
uphold  him.  Miranda's  rotund  figure,  vehemence,  spas- 
modic energy,  the  unmitigated  scorn  with  which  he  re- 
garded all  who  differed  from  him,  delighted  them.  He 
enjoyed  the  sort  of  immunity  from  punishment  granted 
the  old-time  court  jester.  The  cavemen  liked  him  because 
they  could  never  tell  what  he  was  going  to  do  next.  The 
novelty  of  so  dynamic  a  personality  appealed  to  their 
sense  of  humor.    Thus,  when  they  were  all  assembled  in 


296  THE  GILDED  MAN 

the  garden,  the  little  doctor's  next  move  was  awaited 
with  eagerness.  To  their  astonishment,  the  flourish 
expected  of  him  was  not  forthcoming.  Instead,  he  stood 
stock  still,  folded  his  arms  across  his  chest  with  all  the 
Napoleonic  dignity  he  could  muster,  and  glared  at 
Raoul. 

This  extreme  composure,  however,  was  not  shared  by 
the  rest  of  the  explorers.  At  the  first  glimpse  of  Una, 
standing  immediately  behind  Sajipona,  Mrs.  Quayle  gave 
a  shriek  of  joy  and  collapsed  into  the  arms  of  the  school- 
master, whose  own  emotions  made  him  a  sorry  support 
at  the  best.  Leighton,  on  the  contrary,  accompanied  by 
Herran,  strode  quickly  forward  and  would  have  reached 
the  threshold  of  the  palace,  had  he  not  been  waved 
imperiously  aside  by  Raoul,  who  now  summoned  his  fol- 
lowers about  him,  formed  them  into  a  close  phalanx  and 
advanced  rapidly  across  the  graden.  When  they  were 
within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  palace,  they  were  suddenly 
met  by  two  men  of  gigantic  stature,  who  calmly  ordered 
them  to  halt.  Raoul  was  less  intimidated  than  his  fol- 
lowers, who  recognized  in  this  unexpected  challenge  an 
authority  they  were  accustomed  to  obey.  The  two  men 
confronting  them  evidently  belonged  to  the  priesthood. 
They  were  distinguished  from  the  rest  of  Sajipona's 
courtiers  by  their  dress,  adorned  by  various  symbolical 
figures  embroidered  in  red  and  gold,  and  by  two  wands, 
each  surmounted  by  an  emerald,  which  they  carried  in 
their  hands.  Although  without  military  backing,  weapon- 
less except  for  these  wands,  Raoul  saw  with  dismay  that 
the  mere  presence  of  these  men  excited  the  respect,  and 
even  the  homage,  of  those  about  him.  Many  bowed  be- 
fore them;  a  few  showed  an  unmistakable  disposition  to 


A  QUEEN'S  CONQUEST  297 

abandon  their  enterprise  altogether  and  take  refuge  in 
flight.  Before  this  movement  could  become  general, 
however,  they  were  arrested  by  the  appearance  of  Saji- 
pona  in  their  midst. 

Descending  the  steps  of  the  palace,  the  queen,  at- 
tended only  by  Una  and  Narva,  came  swiftly  forward 
to  meet  them.  Her  bearing,  the  proud  majesty  of  her 
beauty,  caused  a  murmur  of  admiration  throughout  the 
ranks  of  the  cavemen  that  was  punctuated  by  a  hearty 
shout  from  Miranda,  who  watched  the  troubles  of  Raoul 
with  unrestrained  delight.  It  was  not  often,  indeed,  that 
the  rank  and  file  of  the  Land  of  the  Condor  came  face 
to  face  with  their  queen.  When  they  did  so,  the  meeting 
aroused  a  profound  feeling  of  pride  and  loyalty.  Raoul, 
seeing  the  effect  Sajipona  had  upon  his  men,  and  already 
disconcerted  by  the  reception  accorded  the  two  priests, 
had  no  mind  for  further  encounters  that  might  cost  him 
his  entire  following.  In  the  outside  world,  faced  by  a 
similar  danger,  he  would  have  retreated.  But  here,  in 
the  midst  of  a  subterranean  labyrinth  of  unknown  extent, 
retreat  was  impossible.  The  alternative  was  a  bold  ral- 
lying of  his  forces,  a  sudden  rush  for  the  prize  he  had 
ventured  so  far  to  win.  Turning  upon  his  men,  he 
denounced  them  savagely  for  their  apparent  change  of 
purpose,  their  cowardice. 

"You  will  remain  slaves!"  he  cried  tauntingly.  "We 
have  your  tyrants  in  our  power.  All  you  need  do  for 
your  freedom  is  to  follow  me  and  take  what  belongs  to 
you." 

There  were  enough  who  understood  his  words  to  trans- 
late them  to  those  ignorant  of  Spanish,  and  the  immediate 
effect  produced  on  these  people,  vacillating  by  nature, 


298  THE  GILDED  MAN 

ever  ready  to  yield  to  the  strongest  personality  that 
appealed  to  them,  was  not  far  from  that  intended.  Spears, 
knives,  blowguns  were  brandished,  a  score  or  more  men 
leaped  forward  uttering  cries  of  triumph — and  again  the 
attack  planned  by  Raoul  seemed  fairly  under  way  and 
with  a  reasonable  prospect  of  success.  It  was  checked 
— but  only  for  an  instant — by  a  clamorous  protest  from 
Miranda.  The  latter,  blazing  with  indignation,  bounded 
to  the  front,  gesticulating  and  menacing  all  who  were 
within  his  reach. 

"He  is  one  canaille,  this  fellow!"  he  shouted.  "He 
fight  with  the  womens.  He  take  from  you  all  you  have. 
Do  not  be  estupid.    He  liel     He  liel" 

This  outburst  astonished  more  than  it  convinced  those 
to  whom  it  was  addressed.  As  Miranda  spoke  in  a  mix- 
ture of  English  and  Spanish,  scarcely  any  one  understood 
what  he  said.  In  another  moment  he  would  have  been 
swept  derisively  aside,  had  not  Sajipona  quietly  inter- 
posed. Pointing  at  Raoul,  she  spoke  a  few  words  to 
the  cavemen  in  their  native  tongue.  Then  she  turned  to 
the  man  whose  armed  presence  at  the  doors  of  her  pal- 
ace, threatened  her  authority,  if  not  her  life. 

"So!  This  is  the  man  who,  a  short  time  ago,  I  saved 
from  death  at  the  hands  of  an  angry  mob!"  she  said 
scornfully.  "You  did  not  come  to  my  house  then,  Don 
Raoul,  as  you  come  now.  And  yet — if  I  order  these  men, 
whom  you  think  are  your  followers,  to  treat  you  as  that 
other  mob  would  have  treated  you,  they  would  obey  me. 
Be  sure  of  that!  And  now,  tell  me:  what  have  you  done 
with  Anitoo?" 

Raoul  hesitated  a  moment,  then  answered  sullenly: 

"He  attacked  me.    I  killed  him  in  self-defense." 


A  QUEEN'S  CONQUEST  299 

The  reply  was  only  half  understood  by  the  cavemen; 
but  the  attitude  of  Raoul,  contrasted  with  the  majestic 
bearing  and  composure  of  Sajipona,  had  already  aroused 
their  indignation. 

"It  may  have  been,  as  you  say,  in  self-defense — I  have 
only  your  word  for  it.  But,  for  the  treachery,  the  rebel- 
lion you  have  brought  here,"  the  queen  went  on,  "by  all 
the  laws  of  our  kingdom  you  should  die.  But  I  have 
something  I  wish  you  to  do.  If  you  do  it,  your  life  will 
be  spared  and  you  will  be  taken  in  safety  from  this  cave 
^— never  to  enter  it  again." 

Sajipona  checked  the  tumult  that  she  saw  rising  among 
the  cavemen,  and  spoke  a  few  words  to  them. 

"I  have  told  them,"  she  explained,  turning  to  Raoul, 
"that  I  knew  of  your  coming — as  I  did.  I  have  told 
them  I  have  something  for  you  to  do  before  you  are 
expelled  from  our  kingdom.  And  I  have  pledged  my 
word  for  your  safety — although  none  of  the  men  you 
have  led  here  against  me  seem  to  care  what  happens  to 
you.    And  now  you  will  come  with  me." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  approval.  Raoul  looked  fear- 
fully at  his  followers.  Their  submission  to  the  com- 
mands of  the  woman  they  were  accustomed  to  obey  was 
sufficiently  evident  to  destroy  his  last  hope  for  even  a 
divided  authority.  Neither — for  he  was  ignorant  of  their 
language — could  he  tell  just  what  had  passed  between 
them  and  Sajipona.  He  was  glad  to  accept,  however, 
the  queen's  promise  of  safety;  and  this,  coupled  with 
a  desire  to  get  to  the  bottom  of  the  mystery  that  had 
tantalized  him  since  he  first  met  this  strange  and  fasci- 
nating being,  reconciled  him  to  the  enforced  abandon- 
ment of  his  schemes  for  the  conquest  of  a  subterranean 


300  THE  GILDED  MAN 

stronghold  into  which  he  had  ventured  too  far  to  retreat. 
He  therefore  bowed  his  head  to  Sajipona's  commands 
and  prepared  to  do  as  she  directed.  His  submission  was 
greeted  with  ironical  approval  by  Miranda,  who  how 
waddled  forward  impatiently,  dragging  Leighton  with 
him,  to  enter  the  palace.  But  in  this  he  was  prevented 
by  Sajipona. 

"Senor,  Doctor,"  she  said,  pleasing  his  vanity  by  her 
knowledge  of  his  professional  title,  "you  must  wait. 
There  is  much  to  be  done.  You  are  a  fine  general.  You 
have  helped  save  this  palace,  my  kingdom  and  all  of 
us  from  ruin.  I  am  very  grateful.  Soon  you  will  have 
everything  that  you  want.  And  you  and  your  friends 
will  return  to  your  own  country  in  safety." 

This  unexpected  check,  although  expressed  in  terms 
that  were  highly  pleasing  to  Miranda's  vanity,  was  re- 
ceived with  a  grumbling  protest. 

"But,  Senorita,"  he  expostulated;  "this  young  lady 
is  here.  I  look  for  her  everywhere  in  this  cave.  I 
am  her  family.    She  must  come  back  to  us." 

"Not  yet,"  was  the  calm  reply.  "Very  soon,  yes.  But 
now  she  will  stay  with  me." 

There  was  a  finality  about  this  way  of  putting  things 
that  dashed  even  Miranda's  impetuosity.  Leighton, 
silently  watching  the  brief  altercation,  and  perceiving 
that  Una,  who  still  remained  where  Sajipona  had  left 
her,  was  perfectly  calm  and  in  no  need  of  their  assist- 
ance, exerted  himself  to  restrain  her  headstrong  cham- 
pion. This  was  no  easy  matter,  and  the  struggle  between 
the  two  was  watched  with  a  covert  smile  by  Sajipona. 
With  the  help  of  Herran  and  Andrew,  however,  Miranda's 
opposition  was  finally  overcome.    After  which,  without 


A  QUEEN'S  CONQUEST  301 

waiting  to  hear  the  tirade  that,  she  could  see,  the  doctor 
was  ready  to  launch,  the  queen,  followed  by  Raoul,  turned 
to  the  palace.  Regaining  the  entrance,  she  faced  them 
once  more  and  waved  a  farewell  to  the  silent  throng  in 
the  garden.  Then,  giving  her  hand  to  Una,  she  passed 
within,  the  great  doors  clanging  behind  her. 


XX 


LEGEND  AND  REALITY 


AS  soon  as  she  reentered  the  palace,  Sajipona  dis- 
missed her  courtiers,  the  cavemen  who  acted  as 
guards,  and  even  the  few  female  attendants  she  was 
accustomed  to  have  near  her.  Of  her  own  people,  Narva 
alone  remained. 

Facing  Raoul  and  Una  in  the  deserted  hall,  flooded 
with  light  from  the  magic  sun  that  a  short  while  since 
had  traced  in  moving  characters  of  fire  the  approach 
of  her  enemies,  Sajipona  told  of  her  purpose  in  bringing 
them  there.  She  spoke  as  if  she  had  long  foreseen  and 
even  planned  this  interview,  and  amazed  them  by  her 
intimate  knowledge  of  various  matters  that  seemed  quite 
beyond  the  reach  of  her  sources  of  information.  It  was 
as  if  she  had  been  thoroughly  familiar  for  some  years 
past  with  Raoul 's  schemes,  and  had  even  shared  in  the 
hopes  and  fears  that  brought  Una  to  Colombia. 

"I  knew  of  your  coming;  I  planned  for  it,"  she  said 
to  Raoul.  "For  months  I  have  known  that  you  were 
using  every  art  your  cunning  could  suggest — aided  by  the 
treachery  of  one  of  my  own  people — to  find  your  way 
here.  Until  now  you  have  been  unable  to  do  anything. 
I  was  always  able  to  keep  you  out  of  here — and  I  could 
still  have  kept  you  out,  had  it  not  served  my  purpose 

302 


LEGEND  AND  REALITY  303 

better  to  let  you  come.  You  are  here  now — you  are 
looking  for  what  you  have  always  looked.  You  guessed, 
long  since,  of  the  existence  of  a  great  treasure  house,  built 
here  centuries  ago  by  the  rulers  of  our  mountain  king- 
dom who  disappeared  before  the  white  invaders  of  this 
country.  Idle  stories  and  legends  of  those  far  off  times, 
repeated  to  you  by  the  peons  whom  you  questioned, 
vague  hints  and  romances  picked  up  from  ancient  books, 
led  you  to  this  cave  and  to  the  belief  that  I  was,  in  some 
way,  mixed  up  with  its  secret.  I  will  not  say  that  you 
-were  right  or  wrong  in  all  of  this.  Here  you  look  for 
a  mountain  of  treasure;  as  yet  you  have  found  none. 
But  you  have  seen  marvels  enough  since  you  entered 
this  unknown  region  to  make  you  eager  to  solve  a  mys- 
tery that  every  moment  has  grown  deeper.  I  will  help 
you — but  it  must  be  in  my  own  way,  and  just  so  far 
as  it  suits  my  own  plans. 

"Once,  we  who  live  here  now  shut  out  from  all  the  rest 
of  the  world,  were  free.  We  overran  all  the  plains  and 
mountains  of  Bogota,  our  rule  extended  to  the  warmer 
countries  on  every  side  of  us.  We  practiced  arts,  culti- 
vated sciences,  were  familiar  with  secrets  of  nature  that 
our  conquerors  were  too  rude,  too  ignorant  to  under- 
stand. But  these  conquerors  excelled  us  in  warfare;  and 
so  we  were  driven  either  into  slavery  or  hiding.  It  is 
in  memory  of  that  former  age  of  freedom  and  empire  that 
my  people  have  called  this  the  Land  of  the  Condor — 
that,  and  a  strange  old  legend  that  you  may  have  heard 
of.  Here  we  are  hidden  far,  as  you  know,  from  the  light 
of  the  upper  earth.  A  miracle  of  nature  carved  this  land 
out  of  the  rock;  the  science  and  art  of  a  race  older  than 
yours  have  furnished  it  and  made  it  what  you  see.    It 


304  THE  GILDED  MAN 

is  guarded,  as  you  know  to  your  cost,  by  many  a  laby- 
rinth, strongholds  that  have  baffled  you  every  time  you 
have  tried  to  pierce  them.  Its  people  live  by  means  and 
methods  that  are  forgotten — if  they  were  ever  known — 
to  the  outer  world.  Here  we  have  been  free  to  follow 
the  customs  and  beliefs  of  our  fathers.  Here  we  could 
still  continue  a  peaceful  mode  of  life  you  know  nothing 
of.  But  something  has  happened  that  has  changed  all 
this.  Because  of  it  I  have  at  last  permitted,  even  aided 
your  coming  to  us.  I  know  all  you  have  sacrificed  for 
this  treasure  you  hope  to  win  from  the  depths  of  the  earth 
— treasure  that  belongs  to  us.  I  will  not  say  that  your 
search  will  be  rewarded.  Had  you  succeeded  in  your 
plan  years  ago  you  would  have  paid  dearly  for  it.  The 
knowledge  of  this  hidden  land  would  have  been  forever 
lost  to  you.  Good  fortune — or  ill — has  brought  you  here 
at  last.  Your  fate  lies  now  in  the  hands  of  the  man  you 
once  tried  to  injure.  But  there  is  one  thing  you  must  do 
before  his  decision  can  be  given.  You  must  free  him 
from  a  tyranny  that,  with  all  our  knowledge  of  mankind's 
perils  and  weaknesses,  we  are  powerless  to  overcome." 

The  demand,  vague  though  it  was,  did  not  surprise 
Raoul.  Upon  learning  of  David's  disappearance  on  the 
road  from  Honda  to  Bogota,  he  guessed  that  the  missing 
man  had  found  his  way,  by  some  inexplicable  method, 
to  this  subterranean  world,  thus  repeating  his  almost 
fatal  adventure  of  three  years  ago.  This  surmise,  based" 
on  the  past,  and  on  indications  of  similar  abnormal  men- 
tal symptoms  that  he  believed  David  had  again  experi- 
enced, was  corroborated  by  the  cavemen  who  accompa- 
nied him  to  the  palace.  From  these  cavemen  he  learned 
that  David  had  been  followed  by  Sajipona's  emissaries 


LEGEND  AND  REALITY  305 

ever  since  his  arrival  in  Honda.  These  people  intended 
neither  his  capture,  nor  to  interfere  with  whatever  plans 
he  might  have.  Instead,  they  had  formed  a  sort  of  se- 
cret guard,  instructed  to  watch  him  and  report,  so 
soon  as  they  could  ascertain  it,  his  purpose  in  revisiting 
Bogota.  When  he  was  separated  from  Herran  by  the 
regiment  of  volunteers  on  the  Honda  road,  he  was  found 
in  a  state  of  mental  bewilderment,  not  conscious,  ap- 
parently, that  he  had  lost  his  traveling  companions,  but 
anxious  to  find  his  way  to  some  place,  which  he  vaguely 
described.  While  in  this  condition  he  seemed  to  recog- 
nize the  cavemen  with  whom  he  was  talking.  Aided  by 
their  hints  and  suggestions,  his  recollection  of  the  cave, 
and  especially  of  Sajipona,  grew  in  vividness.  He  ap- 
peared to  remember  nothing  of  Herran,  nor  of  his  imme- 
diate object  in  visiting  Bogota.  But  he  spoke  with  in- 
creasing clearness  of  the  Land  of  the  Condor.  He  recalled 
what  had  befallen  him  there  three  years  ago  as  if  it  had 
happened  quite  recently,  and  declared  he  was  looking  for 
Sajipona,  of  whom  he  spoke  with  the  greatest  admiration 
and  gratitude.  As  he  was  uncertain  of  his  way,  he  asked 
the  cavemen  to  guide  him.  This,  of  course,  they  were 
ready  to  do,  although  they  were  completely  mystified  by 
the  sudden  oblivion  into  which,  apparently,  all  his  present 
friends  and  purposes  had  fallen  in  his  mind.  Sajipona 
alone  he  remembered.  Three  years  had  passed  since  he 
last  saw  her — but  the  events  crowded  into  those  three 
years  seemed  to  have  left  not  the  slightest  trace  on  his 
memory.  He  described  his  first  visit  to  the  cave;  but 
the  time  between  that  period  and  this  remained  a  blank 
in  his  mind. 
All  this  Raoul  had  gathered  from  the  cavemen  who,  re- 


3o6  THE  GILDED  MAN 

verting  to  the  Indian  belief  in  such  matters,  declared  that 
David  was  bewitched.  In  a  sense,  Raoul  knew  this  to  be 
true.  He  knew  also  that  the  spells  wrought  by  modern 
witchcraft  were  easily  broken  by  any  scientist  holding 
the  clew  to  them.  That  the  cavemen,  who  possessed 
secrets  in  physics  unknown  to  the  outer  world,  should  be 
ignorant  of  the  simplest  phenomena  of  hypnotism  was 
not  extraordinary.  Even  Sajipona  shared,  to  a  certain 
extent,  the  superstitions  of  those  around  her  regarding 
David.  She  expected  Raoul  to  break  the  "enchantment" 
under  which  David  suffered.  Una,  familiar  with  Leigh- 
ton's  experiments  and  speculations  in  this  field,  was  quite 
as  confident  as  the  queen  that  the  case  was  within  Raoul's 
power.  Raoul  alone  realized  the  possible  consequences 
following  David's  return  to  normal  consciousness. 

"Even  if  I  could  do  as  you  say,"  he  asked,  "why  would 
you  have  David  changed?" 

"As  he  is  now,  he  is  not  himself." 

"No,  he  is  not  himself,"  repeated  Una  eagerly. 

Sajipona's  cheek  paled ;  her  lips  tightened  as  if  to  pre- 
vent an  angry  rejoinder. 

"Are  you  not  content  with  him  as  he  is?"  persisted 
Raoul. 

"What  is  that  to  you?"  she  asked  coldly.  Then,  no 
longer  disguising  her  emotion,  she  went  on: 

"You  don't  understand  what  is  between  us.  He  comes 
from  a  world  that  I  have  never  seen.  In  the  legends  of 
our  kings  there  is  one  telling  of  a  stranger  who  suddenly 
appears  from  a  land  of  clouds — a  land  no  man  knows — 
who  brings  with  him  the  power  to  make  my  people,  as 
they  once  were,  rulers  of  their  own  land.  It  is  an  old 
tale.    Believe  it  or  not — who  can  be  sure  of  these  things? 


LEGEND  AND  REALITY  307 

Certainly,  the  stranger  has  never  come — unless  it  is 
David." 

"There  have  been  many  strangers  since  that  time," 
said  Raoul  cynically.  "Your  people  have  disappeared 
before  the  Spaniard.  They  live  unknown,  forgotten,  in 
a  cave  in  the  mountains.  Why  do  you  think  David  is 
the  stranger  in  the  legend?" 

She  drew  herself  up  scornfully.  Her  dark  beauty, 
flashing  eye,  quivering  nostril,  needed  not  the  emerald 
diadem  of  the  ancient  Chibchas  encircling  her  brow  to 
-proclaim  her  royal  lineage. 

"We  are  not  so  poor,  so  abandoned,  as  you  seem  to 
think,"  she  said.  "This  is  all  that  is  left  of  a  mighty 
kingdom,  it  is  true — a  cave  unknown  to  the  rest  of  the 
world.  But  here  we  are,  at  least,  free.  We  live  the  life 
of  our  fathers.  Our  old  men  have  taught  us  wisdom 
that  is  unknown  to  you.  We  have  wealth — not  only  the 
wealth  that  you  are  seeking — but  secrets  of  earth  and  air 
you  have  never  dreamed  of." 

"This  may  be — I  believe  it  is — all  true.  But — what 
is  David  to  do  here?"  murmured  Una. 

"If  he  is  the  Stranger  of  the  old  legend,  the  Gilded 
Man  we  have  awaited,  this  Land  of  the  Condor  is  his." 

"You  are  its  queen." 

"He  will  be  its  king." 

"You  have  told  him?"  asked  Raoul. 

"Years  ago.  We  were  happy.  I  loved  him.  It  was 
not  as  the  women  of  your  world  love.  Life  was  less  than 
his  least  wish.  And  he  loved  me.  Plans  for  the  great 
rejoicing — the  Feast  of  the  Gilded  Man — were  made. 
Not  since  the  Spaniards  came — perhaps  never  before — 
has  there  been  such  preparation.    Then,  a  change  came 


3o8  THE  GILDED  MAN 

over  him.  He  talked  of  an  outside  world  he  had  seen 
in  his  dreams.  He  was  bewitched  then,  as  he  is  now. 
He  had  forgotten  you,  his  false  friend,  and  all  the  life  he 
had  lived  before.  To  cure  him,  I  sent  him  out  with 
some  of  our  people.  He  scarcely  understood,  but  he 
accepted  anything  I  did  as  if  it  came  from  his  own  will. 
Then  he  disappeared.  Without  a  word  he  left  me. 
There  came  long  years  of  uncertainty.  The  few  months 
he  passed  with  me  here  seemed  like  some  bright  dream 
that  vanishes.  I  began  to  think  it  was  a  dream — when 
suddenly  I  heard  of  him  again.  Some  of  my  people 
found  him  wandering  aimlessly  in  the  forest  near  the 
Bogota  road.  He  was  looking  for  me,  he  said — he  had 
forgotten  the  rest  of  the  world." 

There  was  an  artless  simplicity  in  Sajipona's  confes- 
sion of  her  love  and  disappointment  that  was  more  than 
eloquence.  Narva  stood  apart,  her  face  shrouded  in  her 
mantle,  motionless,  as  if  the  remembrance  of  these  bygone 
matters  carried  with  it  something  of  a  religious  experi- 
ence. Upon  Una  the  effect  was  startlingly  different.  She 
listened  in  amazement,  indignation,  at  this  revelation  of 
a  passion  in  which  her  lover  had  shared — of  which  she 
had  known  nothing — and  that  seemed  to  place  him  utterly 
apart  from  her.  If  Sajipona's  tale  was  true — the  manner 
of  its  telling,  her  own  engaging  personality,  carried  irre- 
sistible conviction — David's  love  for  Una  had  been  shad- 
owed all  along  by  an  earlier,  deeper  sentiment  that  gave 
it  the  color  of  something  that  was  not  altogether  real. 
Why  had  he  never  told  her  of  this  Indian  romance? 
Hypnotism  indeed!  What  man  could  help  kneeling  in 
passionate  adoration  before  this  queenly  woman,  whose 
beauty  was  of  that  glorious  warmth  and  fragrance  be- 


LEGEND  AND  REALITY  309 

longing  to  the  purple  and  scarlet  flowers  of  one's  dreams, 
whose  love  combined  the  unreasoning  devotion  of  a  child 
with  the  proud  loyalty  that  inspires  martyrdom?  They 
had  loved — David  and  Sajipona — there  could  be  no  doubt 
of  that.  Before  he  met  Una  on  the  shores  of  that  far-off 
English  lake,  David  had  stood  soul  to  soul  in  a  heaven 
created  by  this  radiant  being.  He  was  with  her  again. 
The  past  was  completely  blotted  out;  the  tender  idyl  of 
Derwentwater,  of  Rysdale,  forgotten.  Even  the  sight  of 
Una  herself  stirred  but  the  vaguest  ripple  of  memory. 
There  was  mystery,  certainly,  in  these  strange  moods  of 
forgetfulness  from  which  David  was  suffering.  Her 
uncle  could  give  them  a  learned  name  and  account  for 
them  as  belonging  to  something  quite  outside  the  man's 
will,  outside  his  control.  But  what  did  Leighton  really 
know  of  all  this?  Such  matters  were  beyond  the  reach 
of  the  mere  scientist.  With  a  flash  of  scorn  she  doubted 
Leighton 's  knowledge;  his  wisdom  seemed  curiously  lim- 
ited. David's  malady — if  it  was  to  be  called  a  malady — 
was  nothing  less  than  the  delirium  caused  by  love  itself, 
and  as  such  beyond  the  reach  of  clinic  or  laboratory. 
The  spell,  the  witchcraft,  that  had  transformed  him  was 
wrought  by  Sajipona. 

At  first  Una  had  not  believed  this;  now  the  sudden 
conviction  that  the  man  she  loved  was  faithless  to  her, 
had  always  been  faithless  to  her,  brought  an  overwhelm- 
ing sense  of  bitterness.  Her  former  anxiety  to  save  him 
— from  peril  as  she  thought — gave  place  to  a  feeling  that 
was  almost  vindictive.  She  did  not  view  him  with  the 
anger  of  the  jealous  woman  merely;  she  wanted  to  have 
done  with  him,  to  forget  him  altogether.    His  name  was 


310  THE  GILDED  MAN 

linked  by  this  beautiful  Indian  to  one  of  the  legends  of 
her  race;  let  it  remain  there  I 

"Why  disturb  him  now?"  she  demanded  passionately 
of  Sajipona.    "He  loves  you,  he  is  content." 

The  revulsion  of  feeling  in  her  voice  was  unmistakable. 
Her  cheeks  flushed,  her  eyes,  eloquent  hitherto  of 
womanly  tenderness,  dilated  in  anger.  Sajipona  smiled 
enigmatically. 

"If  you  had  not  come,"  she  said,  "there  would  have 
been  no  question.  But  you  are  here.  He  seems  to  have 
forgotten  you.  I  am  not  sure,  I  want  to  be  certain,  now 
that  he  has  forgotten  you,  that  he  is  still  himself." 

"Why  do  you  doubt?  Yes,  he  has  forgotten  me.  And 
he  is  in  your  power,  he  is  yours!  Why  hazard  anything 
further?" 

Sajipona  ignored  the  scornful  meaning  conveyed  in  the 
words,  regarding  Una  with  a  detachment  indicating  her 
absorption  in  a  new  train  of  thought. 

"A  moment  ago  you  were  anxious  for  his  safety,"  she 
murmured.  "You  came  here  to  look  for  him,  to  rescue 
him.  Perhaps  I  have  been  unjust — ^perhaps  you  have  a 
claim " 

"I  have  no  claim,"  retorted  Una  proudly.  "Once  you 
saved  his  life.  He  has  come  to  you  again.  He  loves 
you.  What  man  could  help  loving  you!"  she  added 
bitterly. 

Still  Sajipona  smiled. 

"I  must  be  sure  of  all  this — and  so  must  you,"  she 
said.  "If  the  witchcraft  is  mine,  its  power  will  soon  be 
broken.  If  there  is  something  else,  you,  Senor,  will 
discover  it." 

She  turned  impatiently  to  Raoul,  desiring  him  to  go 


LEGEND  AND  REALITY  311 

with  her  to  David.  Una  refused  to  accompany  them. 
The  conviction  that  she  had  been  mistaken,  deluded, 
filled  her  with  an  unconquerable  aversion  to  meeting  the 
man  for  whom  she  had  been  willing  to  sacrifice  so  much. 
Aware  of  the  unreasonableness  of  this  feeling,  she  yet 
had  no  wish  to  conquer  it.  To  escape  from  this  land  of 
mysteries  and  terrors,  to  return  to  the  simple  familiar 
environment  of  Rysdale — to  forget,  if  that  were  possible 
— was  now  her  one  desire.  She  did  not  attempt  to  ex- 
plain or  justify  herself  to  Sajipona.  Nor  was  this  neces- 
'sary.  To  Sajipona,  Una's  anger  and  its  cause  were  alike 
evident. 

"Stay  here,  if  you  will,  with  Narva,"  said  the  queen, 
with  real  or  feigned  indifference.  "But  remember,  you 
have  refused  to  save  the  man  whom  you  think  is  in 
danger." 

Una  did  not  reply.  For  the  moment  the  old  Indian 
sibyl,  to  whose  protection  she  had  been  assigned,  seemed 
a  welcome  refuge.  Narva's  reserve,  her  silence,  brought 
a  negative  sort  of  relief  to  her  own  moods  of  anguish 
and  indignation.  Thus,  without  regret  or  misgiving,  she 
watched  Raoul  and  Sajipona  disappear  through  the  portal 
that  had  first  admitted  her  to  the  great  hall  of  the 
palace. 


XXI 


DREAMS 


DAVID  welcomed  Sajipona  with  genuine  pleasure, 
with  an  eagerness  suggesting  that  he  had  been 
awaiting  her  coming  impatiently.  Heedless  of  his  greet- 
ing, however,  and  regarding  him  earnestly,  she  asked  if 
he  remembered  the  visitor  who  had  been  with  him  a  short 
time  before. 

"Yes!  Yes!"  he  exclaimed.  Then  he  went  on,  betray- 
ing a  certain  degree  of  anxiety  in  tone  and  manner,  ex- 
plaining how  this  visitor's  face  had  haunted  him  as  if 
it  belonged  to  one  he  had  seen  in  his  dreams,  one  upon 
whom  he  had  unwittingly  inflicted  pain.  Of  course,  that 
could  not  be,  he  said,  since  there  was  no  reality  in 
dreams.  After  all,  a  fancied  wrong  was  nothing — and 
yet,  this  dim  memory  of  the  woman  who  had  been  with 
them  a  moment  before  was  confusing.  Where  was  she 
now?  he  asked.  Was  she  offended  because  he  failed  to 
recognize  her?  He  should  have  known  better — but 
dreams  are  troublesome  things!  He  would  like  to  see 
her  again — although  it  might  be  painful  in  a  way — and 
then,  perhaps,  he  would  recall  more  distinctly  what  now 
was  merely  a  dim  sort  of  shadow  in  the  back  of  his  brain. 

They  talked  together  in  the  darkened  chamber  over- 
looking the  portico.    The  couch  from  which  he  rose  to 

312 


BREAMS  313 

greet  Sajipona  screened,  with  its  regal  hangings,  Raoul 
from  him.  When  the  queen  pointed  out  this  new  visitor 
to  him,  the  result  was  similar  to  that  following  his  en- 
counter with  Una. 

"More  dream-people,"  muttered  David,  passing  his 
hand  slowly  across  his  eyes.  "I  know  this  man,  but  I 
can't  exactly  place  him.  It  will  come  back  to  me  in  a 
minute." 

Raoul  watched  him  with  the  intent,  impersonal  interest 
a  scientist  gives  an  experiment  that  is  nearing  the  climax 
"for  which  everything  has  been  prepared  beforehand. 

"I  think  I  can  help  you,"  he  assured  him. 

Then,  turning  to  Sajipona;  "I  must  warn  you,"  he 
said  in  a  low  voice.  "There  will  be  a  complete  change. 
Why  not  leave  things  as  they  are?" 

The  queen  held  her  head  up  proudly. 

"What  do  you  mean?'  she  asked. 

Raoul  shrugged  his  shoulders,  regarding  her,  and  then 
David,  with  a  gleam  of  malice  in  his  restless  eyes. 

"I  mean  just  this:  David  will  remember  vividly  what 
is  now  only  a  vague  dream,  and  he  may  forget  everything 
else.  Therefore,  I  say,  if  you  are  satisfied  with  him  as  he 
is,  don't  disturb  his  present  mood." 

"I  am  not  satisfied." 

"Ah!  you  are  not  satisfied.  You  want  to  try  one 
more  experiment.  But,  just  think!"  he  went  on,  a  hint 
of  mockery  in  his  voice;  "all  that  legend  of  your  people, 
about  a  stranger  who  would  appear  from  a  far-off  land 
and  restore  the  Chibcha  Empire — why  spoil  so  pretty  a 
picture?  And  the  chances  are,  you  will  spoil  it.  I  warn 
you " 

A  flash  of  anger  checked  his  words. 


314  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"I  have  pledged  myself  for  your  safety,"  she  reminded 
him;  "keep  out  of  danger!  I  don't  care  for  your  warn- 
ings. Help  this  man  in  the  way  that  I  have  asked,  and 
as  you  say  you  can.  You've  tried  often  enough  to  injure 
him.  The  consequences  to  me  from  what  you  do  now — 
leave  all  that  for  me  to  choose.  Oh,  never  fearl  I  will 
repay  your  service." 

David  understood  little  of  what  was  said,  although  he 
strove  to  piece  out  a  meaning.  He  perceived  he  was  the 
subject  of  their  talk.  From  Sajipona's  angry  tone,  more- 
over, he  knew  that  she  was  offended.  The  consequent 
resentment  that  he  felt  in  her  behalf  was  strengthened 
by  an  instinctive  feeling  of  suspicion  and  dislike  toward 
Raoul.  Checking  a  movement  of  repulsion,  he  appealed 
to  Sajipona. 

"Let  me  throw  him  out  of  here,"  he  demanded  ab- 
ruptly. 

"Oh,  on  the  contrary  1"  smiled  the  queen,  not  unpleased 
at  his  attitude.  "He  is  here  because  I  have  asked  him 
to  come — and  you  will  help  me  if  you  do  what  he  tells 
you." 

"Do  what  he  tells  me?  No!  Why,  Sajipona,  what 
new  whim  have  you  got  in  that  beautiful  head  of  yours? 
Something's  wrong.     It  must  be  that  I've  offended  you." 

He  took  her  hand,  stroking  it  caressingly,  while  his. 
eyes  sought  hers  in  unrestrained  admiration. 

"This  is  hard,"  he  went  on,  in  a  low  tone,  half  laugh- 
ter, half  reproach.  "You  are  always  so  good,  gracious 
as  a  queen  should  be.  Now  you  tell  me  to  do  what  an 
enemy  of  yours  commands.  As  your  enemy  means  mine, 
that  is  unreasonable.  I  fear,"  he  added  playfully,  touch- 
ing her  hands  with  his  lips,  "I  will  have  to  disobey  you. 


DREAMS  315 

just  this  once,  even  if  you  are  a  great  queen.  When  I 
am  king,  and  we  rule  our  jolly  cave  together,  as  you  said 
we  would,  it  won't  be  so  bad,  I  suppose.  Men  like  this, 
certainly,  won't  be  around  to  bother  us.  How  did  he  get 
here?  I  thought  one  law  of  this  kingdom — and  a  very 
good  law  it  is,  too — was  to  keep  people  out." 

"But  you  got  in." 

"I  suppose  I  did,"  he  assented  dreamily.  "But  I'm 
not  sure  how  it  happened." 

"That's  just  it.  This  man  will  tell  you.  His  name  is 
Raoul  Arthur." 

David  looked  at  him  blankly,  repeating  the  name. 
Raoul  moved  out  of  the  shadow  of  the  bed  hangings,  his 
eyes  fixed  on  David's.  His  lips  parted  as  if  to  speak, 
but  the  words  were  checked  by  an  imperative  gesture 
from  the  man  before  him. 

"I'm  not  sure  that  I  want  to  listen,"  said  David.  "I 
know  this  man,  I'm  certain  that  I  do — but  I  can't  tell 
you  when  it  was  that  I  first  met  him.  It's  all  very 
vague,  like  the  haze  that  sometimes  covers  the  living 
pictures  in  the  great  pool  of  light  in  there.  This  memory 
comes  like  something  evil,  something  that  brings  ruin. 
Surely,  you  don't  want  to  bring  ruin  upon  us,  Sajiponal 
Why  not  blot  it  out  altogether?" 

She  shook  her  head  sadly,  looking  wistfully  into  his 
face.  They  clasped  each  other's  hands,  oblivious,  for  the 
moment,  of  Raoul 's  presence. 

"If  you  are  king  there  must  be  no  forgetting,  no  dread 
of  a  memory  that  has  been  lost.  You  must  know!  The 
Land  of  the  Condor  is  a  land  of  dreams  compared  with 
the  rest  of  the  world.  You  have  been  out  there,  David, 
but  you  have  forgotten.    Now  you  must  remember." 


3i6  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"No,  not  exactly  forgotten,"  he  said  uneasily.  "It's 
all  in  my  head,  a  lot  of  things  jumbled  together — like 
the  haze  in  there.  I  have  no  wish  to  straighten  it  out, 
either.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  knowing  too  much 
sometimes.  We  are  happier  this  way — don't  let's  run 
any  risks  changing  what  we  already  have.  Soon  there 
will  be  that  feast,  you  said — and  then,  if  you  are  queen, 
perhaps  you  will  want  me  to  be  king.  How  proud  I 
shall  be!  You  are  very  beautiful,  Sajipona;  noble  and 
great,  like  the  daughter  of  real  kings  of  the  earth.  You 
are  my  dream-queen,  you  know,  the  first  love  to  touch 
my  soul  with  a  knowledge  of  beauty.  Such  a  woman 
men  die  for!  Sometimes,  when  you  sing  to  me,  or  tease 
old  Narva;  or  when  I  would  hold  you  and  you  kind  of 
ripple  away  laughing,  like  the  little  brook  at  the  bottom 
of  the  garden — ^yes,  that  is  the  woman  men  die  loving." 

"I  wonder  if  you  will  always  think  that! " 

"You  mean,  I  may  forget?" 

"No,  you  will  remember." 

"  'Remember!'  You  mean,  those  other  things  wrapped 
in  the  haze — the  things  that  we  wait  to  see  come  out  in 
the  pool  of  light.  That's  just  it!  No,  I  don't  want 
them;  they  spoil  the  first  picture.  To  worship  beauty 
like  yours,  to  live  forever  in  the  spell  of  your  eyes,  the 
fragrance  of  your  whole  perfect  being — that  is  happiness. 
I  want  nothing  else.  Why  lose  our  dream-loves;  why 
snatch  from  us,  even  before  it  is  ours,  the  first  pure 
flower  that  touches  the  lips  of  youth?  Don't  rob  me  of 
mine,  my  queen!" 

His  appeal  thrilled  with  a  dreamy  earnestness  that 
would  have  moved  a  sterner  woman  than  Sajipona.  Nor 
could  there  be  doubt  that  the  joy  he  thus  kindled  in  her 


DREAMS  317 

revived  a  hope  that  Una's  coming  had  almost  destroyed. 
Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  this  response  of  her  own  deep 
passion  to  his,  her  purpose  remained  unaltered.  The 
very  eagerness  with  which  she  drank  in  David's  words — 
feeling  the  temptation  to  let  things  keep  the  happy 
course  they  had  already  taken — strengthened  her  resolve 
to  lose  no  time,  to  risk  everything  now.  That  such  a 
change  as  she  had  feared  could  be  wrought  in  David  after 
all  this,  seemed  inconceivable.  The  witchcraft,  if  witch- 
craft it  was,  that  drew  him  to  her  was  something  real, 
:r-Teal  as  life,  that  exorcism  could  not  dissolve.  Sure  of  her 
triumph,  she  sought  to  put  him  to  the  test  herself. 

"David,  before  you  came  to  me,  was  there  no  other 
woman  that  you  knew?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  think  so,  surely!"  he  laughed.  "There 
might  have  been  any  number  of  them.  But — why  bother 
about  them?  Just  who  they  were,  or  where  I  knew 
them,  I  have  forgotten.  I  hope  you  don't  think  it  neces- 
sary to  remember  every  woman  I  have  known!  Any- 
.    way,  I  can't.    Why,  I  don't  even  remember  their  names." 

"I  mean,  one  woman  only.  Perhaps  there  was  one  you 
loved,  you  know,  among  all  those  you  have  forgotten. 
Some  one  who  was  beautiful — is  still  beautiful — and  who 
loves  you.  It  might  be  the  woman  you  saw  here  a  short 
time  ago.    She  is  called  Una.    Surely,  you  remember." 

He  wrung  her  hands,  kissed  them,  listened  eagerly  to 
what  she  was  saying,  at  the  same  time  that  he  longed  to 
seal  his  ears  from  hearing.  Under  his  breath  he  mut- 
tered Una's  name,  its  iteration,  apparently,  increasing  his 
agitation.  Distressed  by  oajipona's  questions,  he  tried 
to  parry  them,  without  revealing  too  much  of  his  own 
mental  confusion.    He  did  remember  Una,  he  said,  but 


3i8  THE  GILDED  MAN 

the  memory  was  vague.  She  might  be  one  of  those 
dream-women,  for  all  he  knew,  who  get  mixed  up  with 
one's  ideas  of  reality.  He  would  like  to  have  it  straight- 
ened out,  to  know  who  she  was  and  why  the  thought  of 
her  troubled  him.  But,  after  all,  it  was  not  particularly 
important — not  important,  that  is,  compared  with  his 
love  for  Sajipona,  his  certainty  that  in  their  union  lay 
a  future  happiness,  not  for  them  only,  but  for  all  this 
wonderful  kingdom  she  ruled  over. 

"Keep  in  this  mind,  if  you  will,"  said  Sajipona,  the 
hope  that  she  secretly  cherished  greatly  strengthened  by 
the  sincerity  and  fervor  of  his  protestations;  "but  first 
be  sure  you  know  dreams  from  waking." 

Again  she  expressed  her  desire  to  have  Raoul  brought 
into  the  matter,  promising  David  that,  through  his  knowl- 
edge and  experience,  the  puzzles  and  contradictions  of 
the  past  would  be  set  right.  Yielding  reluctantly,  he 
turned  to  Raoul. 

The  latter  had  withdrawn  to  the  far  side  of  David's 
couch,  whence  he  had  watched,  with  alternate  amuse- 
ment and  contempt,  all  that  took  place  between  these 
two.  He  now  advanced,  with  the  air  of  one  who  has 
the  mastery  of  a  difficult  situation,  and  again  proffered 
his  services.  There  was  mockery  in  his  voice;  before 
he  addressed  himself  to  his  task  he  repeated  his  warning 
to  Sajipona,  reminding  her  that  it  might  be  better  not  to 
revive  too  suddenly  a  past  filled,  possibly,  with  disagree- 
able surprises.  His  warning  waved  impatiently  aside, 
Raoul  turned  swiftly  upon  David,  his  restless,  irritating 
eyes  fixed  in  a  steady  glare  that,  bit  by  bit,  broke  down 
the  latter's  opposition.  Forcing  his  victim  to  be  seated 
upon  the  side  of  the  couch,  he  stood  over  him,  for  a 


DREAMS  319 

short  space,  in  silence.  There  was  nothing  in  all  this 
of  the  gesture  and  mummery  traditionally  accompanying 
certain  spectacular  manifestations  of  hypnotism;  neither 
were  the  two  men  at  any  time  in  physical  contact  with 
each  other.  An  onlooker  would  say  that  the  younger 
man  was  unconsciously  brought  into  a  passive  condition 
by  the  exertion  upon  him  of  a  stronger  will,  intensified 
by  facial  peculiarities  that  were  well  calculated  to  hold 
the  attention.  Eyes  like  Raoul's,  although  exciting 
repugnance,  at  the  same  time  arouse  curiosity.  Once  ab- 
"^sorbed  in  probing  their  baffling  depths,  the  object  of  their 
regard  yields  to  a  sort  of  baleful  fascination  hard  to  shake 
off.  In  former  years  David  had  been  used  by  Raoul  in 
various  psychological  experiments,  and  was  thus  accus- 
tomed, on  such  occasions,  to  surrender  himself  to  the 
other's  compelling  influence.  This  habit  was  now  uncon- 
sciously revived.  The  old  grooves  of  thought  and  conduct 
were  reopened,  as  it  were,  by  the  resumption  of  a  paral- 
lel outward  condition.  As  a  result,  David  fell  into  a 
state  of  complete  mental  inertia. 

To  this  influence  Raoul  now  added  the  force  of  direct 
suggestion,  or,  rather,  verbal  command.  The  subtle  arts 
of  apparent  submission,  or,  at  the  least,  mild  expostu- 
lation which  he  usually  employed  in  gaining  his  ends  with 
an  intractable  opponent,  were  cast  aside.  His  attack  was 
concentrated,  he  spoke  scornfully,  without  compromise  in 
utterance  or  meaning,  so  that  his  hypnotized  subject  was 
forced  either  to  resist  or  to  be  carried  along  by  him. 
Through  this  direct,  positive  method,  he  took  David  back, 
step  by  step,  over  events  in  the  immediate  past  that  had 
become  obscured  in  his  memory. 

''On  the  road  from  Honda,"  he  told  him,  "you  were 


320  THE  GILDED  MAN 

traveling  with  another  man.  You  were  both  going  to 
Bogota.  You  stopped  on  the  road,  and  at  this  man's 
suggestion  you  drank  several  toasts.  The  liquor  con- 
fused you.  You  began  to  lose  track  of  things.  Suddenly, 
you  and  your  companion  met  a  ragged  army  of  volun- 
teers marching,  as  they  said,  to  avenge  their  country  on 
the  Americans  at  Panama.  This  encounter,  bringing  you 
into  direct  contact  with  Colombian  hostility  to  your  coun- 
trymen, intensified  your  abnormal  condition.  In  the 
confusion  caused  by  meeting  the  volunteers,  you  were 
separated  from  your  companion.  His  name — don't  for- 
get!— was  General  Herran.  He  also  had  been  mixed  up 
in  the  Panama  troubles.  By  this  time — that  is,  after 
you  had  lost  Herran — owing  to  these  various  causes, 
you  had  fallen  into  one  of  those  states  of  forgetfulness 
that  you  had  experienced  before.  In  this  state  you  forgot 
what  had  just  happened  and  remembered  instead  your 
experience  here  three  years  ago,  when  your  brain  had 
been  stunned  by  an  explosion  of  dynamite.  Living  again 
in  this  memory,  you  met  two  cavemen.  They  spoke  to 
you.  You  knew  them.  Immediately,  it  seemed  to  you 
that  you  were  on  your  way  with  them  to  meet  Sajipona 
in  this  cave  where  you  had  been  three  years  before.  All 
that  had  passed  between  then  and  now  faded  from  your 
mind.  But,  of  course  you  know  that  is  preposterous! 
Nothing  fades  from  the  mind.  The  memory  of  that  period 
that  you  think  you  have  forgotten  is  really  in  your  brain, 
waiting  for  you  to  call  it  to  life.  And  now,  you  will 
call  it  to  life." 

The  emphasis,  the  force  in  what  Raoul  was  saying  was 
due  more  to  his  manner,  the  intensity  with  which  he 
regarded  David,  than  in  the  actual  words  themselves. 


DREAMS  321 

It  was,  in  a  measure,  a  contest  of  wills;  but,  either  through 
long  habit  of  yielding  to  Raoul  in  these  experiments,  or 
else  through  a  desire  to  carry  out  what  was  evidently 
Sajipona's  wish,  there  was  no  doubt  from  the  first  of  the 
result.  And  when  this  result  came,  it  was  decisive. 
After  the  first  sentence  David's  instinctive  opposition  was 
weakened.  The  desire  to  allay  the  anxiety  obscurely 
felt  in  his  own  mind  helped  to  bring  him  under  Raoul's 
influence.  The  unexpected  sight  of  Una  had  disturbed 
him.  Ever  since  their  meeting  he  had  been  aware  that 
L^-^  something  in  him  was  lacking,  some  dew  lost  between 
his  past  and  his  present.  Sajipona,  deeply  conscious 
though  he  was  of  her  majestic  beauty,  began  to  take  on 
the  vagueness  of  outline  belonging  to  those  persons  whose 
relationship  to  ourselves  is  so  doubtfully  circumstanced 
that  we  momentarily  expect  to  lose  sight  of  them  alto- 
gether. She  was  literally  becoming  the  dream-woman, 
the  intangible,  lovely  ideal  of  youth  that  he  had  playfully 
called  her,  while  Una  was  becoming  correspondingly 
more  real,  less  elusive.  For  this  very  reason,  this  fear 
that  fate  was  about  to  take  from  him  one  so  desirable 
as  Sajipona,  he  had  felt  an  excess  of  joy  upon  seeing  her 
now.  His  greeting  had  been  more  than  usually  demon- 
strative because  her  coming  had  reassured  him,  silenced 
doubts  that  were  disquieting.  Then,  on  the  heels  of 
this,  he  was  aware  of  Raoul,  with  all  that  he  meant  of 
uncertainty  and  restlessness.  And  yet,  in  spite  of  his  dis- 
taste for  anything  that  threatened  the  peaceful  course 
his  life  seemed  to  be  taking,  a  secret  feeling  of  relief  tem- 
pered the  repulsion  aroused  by  the  sudden  appearance  of 
his  long  forgotten  friend.  Raoul's  words  and  manner 
completely  possessed  him.     The  scene  that  he  recalled 


322  THE  GILDED  MAN 

of  his  meeting  with  the  cavemen  on  the  Honda  road  was 
etched  on  his  mind  as  vividly  as  if  it  had  just  been  experi- 
enced. And  now,  with  this  starting  point  fixed,  Raoul 
took  him  backward,  step  by  step. 

Again  he  saw  himself  with  General  Herran,  stopping 
on  the  Honda  road  to  exchange  those  fatal  civilities,  and 
immediately  after,  the  noise  and  confusion  of  the  march- 
ing volunteers,  with  their  threats  of  vengeance  against  the 
Yankees.  Back  of  this  came  the  quiet  march  with  Her- 
ran. He  recalled  their  talk,  something  of  their  friendly 
disputes.  The  effort  to  do  this  bewildered  him.  It 
seemed  as  if  he  were  stepping  from  one  world  into  an- 
other. Everything  was  merged  into  one  gigantic  figure 
of  Raoul,  a  Raoul  towering  above  him,  concentrating 
himself  upon  him,  dominating  him  until  all  else  faded 
away  and  he  was  lost  in  a  dreamless  sleep,  filled  only  with 
that  word  of  command— "remember! " 

How  long  he  remained  in  this  state  of  unconscious- 
ness— for  it  was  that  rather  than  sleep — ^he  did  not  know. 
It  might  have  been  years,  it  might  have  been  a  mere 
moment  of  time.  When  the  spell  was  finally  broken 
by  Raoul  the  scene  that  met  his  awakened  senses  puzzled 
him.  He  was  in  Sajipona's  palace,  in  the  room  where 
Raoul  had  confronted  and  subdued  him.  But  it  was  all 
unfamiliar.  His  mind  was  filled  with  his  mission  to 
Bogota.  His  parting  with  Una  in  the  sunny  courtyard 
of  the  inn  came  back  to  him,  irradiating  a  dreamy  hap- 
piness. He  had  been  through  some  strange  experiences 
since  then,  he  knew.  The  sight  of  the  bed  hangings 
under  which  he  was  reclining,  the  great  spaces  of  the 
room,  the  softened  light  of  the  cave,  kept  alive  the  mem- 
ory of  many  a  novel,  fantastic  adventure.    Shaking  off 


DREAMS  323 

his  drowsiness,  he  sprang  to  his  feet.  Sajipona  and  Raoul 
advanced  to  meet  him.  Sajipona!  Yes,  he  remem- 
bered her.  She  was  the  beautiful  Indian  queen  he 
was  to  marry  in  his  dream — it  must  have  been  a 
dream,  because  Una  was  not  there;  except  that,  at  the 
very  last,  he  remembered,  Una  had  stepped  in  for  just 
a  moment — and  he  had  not  known  her!  How  amazed, 
angry,  she  must  have  been!  And  then — what  else  could 
have  been  expected? — she  had  gone  away.  He  was  anx- 
ious now  for  her  safety,  although  how  she  could  possibly 
be  in  this  cave,  how  she  could  have  found  her  way  here, 
was  a  hopeless  puzzle.  The  first  word  he  uttered  was  a 
cry  to  Sajipona: 

"Where  is  Una?" 

Raoul  would  have  answered,  but  Sajipona  checked 
him.  She  realized  the  full  significance  of  David's  ques- 
tion, although  outwardly  she  showed  nothing  of  her 
emotion. 

"You  are  yourself  again — I  am  glad,"  she  said. 

"But  Una ?" 

"She  is  safe.  She  reached  Bogota  after  you  left 
Honda." 

David's  relief  was  evident,  although  his  eyes  showed 
the  perplexity  arising  from  his  strange  awakening. 

"I  thought  she  had  found  her  way  here,"  he  said.  Then 
he  turned  again  to  Sajipona,  this  time  with  an  impulsive 
gesture  of  gratitude.  "I  remember  everything  now.  You 
saved  my  life.  Every  moment  with  you  has  been  filled 
with  happiness.  How  can  I  ever  be  grateful  enough  for 
the  kindness  you  have  shown  me?" 

He  knelt  before  her,  kissing  her  hand.  She  smiled; 
her  other  hand  rested  upon  his  shoulder. 


324  THE  GILDED  MAN 

"Grateful!"  she  exclaimed  playfully.  "Have  we  not 
a  lifetime  together  before  us?  You  have  forgotten  the 
festival  that  awaits  us  on  the  top  of  the  mountain." 

"No,  I  have  not  forgotten." 

"Do  you  want  it  to  take  place?" 

He  arose  to  his  feet,  clasping  his  hands  over  his  eyes 
as  if  to  fix  an  uncertain  impression.  When  he  bared 
his  face  before  her  again,  there  was  quiet  determination 
in  his  glance.  Again  he  took  her  hand  in  his,  pressing 
it  to  his  lips.  Then,  with  eyes  fixed  full  upon  hers,  he 
answered  her  question: 

"Yes." 


XXII 

A  people's  destiny 

MIRANDA  and,  in  a  lesser  degree,  those  who  were 
with  him  in  the  palace  garden,  were  indignant  at 
their  enforced  separation  from  Una  and  Sajipona.  The 
doctor,  priding  himself  especially  on  Raoul's  discomfiture, 
considered  the  queen  guilty  of  the  basest  ingratitude,  and 
even  suspected  that  she  might  be,  at  that  moment,  plot- 
ting their  destruction.  Leighton  and  Heiran  scoffed  at 
this,  but  it  appealed  to  Mrs.  Quayle,  and  that  lady, 
clinging  nervously  to  Andrew,  followed  Miranda's  explo- 
sive talk  with  appreciative  horror.  This  proving  a  profit- 
less diversion,  however,  Leighton  proposed  the  adoption 
of  a  plan  for  immediate  action.  An  attack  on  the  palace, 
or  a  retreat  that  would  bring  them  to  the  entrance  of  the 
cave,  were  alternately  considered.  But  as  both  plans 
seemed  to  leave  Una  out  of  their  reach,  they  were  dis- 
carded as  impossible,  and  it  looked  as  if  they  would 
have  to  settle  down  to  an  indefinite  stay  in  the  garden. 
In  the  midst  of  the  discussion  the  doors  of  the  palace 
were  thrown  open  and  Narva  and  Una  hurried  out  to 
meet  them.  Still  fearing  ambuscades  and  other  unde- 
finable  treacheries,  Miranda  was  by  no  means  ready  to 
throw  aside  his  caution  at  their  approach.  But  the  aged 
sibyl's  lofty  disdain  was  disconcerting,  nor  was  there  any 

325 


326  THE  GILDED  MAN 

resisting  the  whole-hearted  joy  with  which  Una  greeted 
them. 

To  their  eager  inquiries  she  gave  the  briefest  replies. 
For  one  thing,  she  assured  them  that  they  had  Sajipona's 
promise  that  their  escape  from  the  cave  would  be  easy 
and  not  too  long  delayed.  Of  the  queen's  friendly  dispo- 
sition towards  them,  she  said,  there  was  not  the  slightest 
doubt.  They  could  count  on  the  carrying  out  of  her 
promise  if,  on  their  side,  the  conditions  she  proposed 
were  observed.  These  conditions  were:  never,  once  they 
were  out  of  it,  to  enter  the  cave  again;  to  reveal  as  little 
as  possible  to  the  outside  world  of  their  experiences  during 
their  present  adventure;  and  to  keep  an  absolute  silence 
regarding  Sajipona's  relationship  to  this  mysterious  race 
of  people. 

Beyond  this  Una  would  say  little.  The  conditions 
were  joyfully  accepted.  Nothing,  certainly,  could  ever 
induce  them  to  enter  the  cave  again.  But  then — there 
v/as  David.  Yes,  Una  admitted,  David  was  in  the  pal- 
ace. She  had  seen  him.  He  was  free,  so  far  as  she 
knew,  to  come  or  go  as  he  chose.  But  he  had  not  said 
he  would  return  with  them.  It  might  be,  indeed,  that 
he  would  choose  to  live  permanently  with  the  cavemen — 
an  amazing  possibility  that  started  an  avalanche  of  ques- 
tions to  which  only  the  vaguest  answers  were  given. 
Doubtless  they  would  see  David  before  they  left,  Una 
assured  them,  and  learn  for  themselves  all  they  wished 
to  know.  As  for  Raoul,  she  could  tell  nothing.  He 
was,  apparently,  in  favor  with  the  queen,  and  engaged 
in  some  undertaking  for  her. 

Una  betrayed  none  of  her  suspicions  regarding  David 
in  her  discussion  of  these  matters.     She  had  not  seen 


A  PEOPLE'S  DESTINY  327 

him  since  that  first  meeting  in  the  little  portico  adjoining 
his  quarters  in  the  palace,  hence  she  was  ignorant  of 
the  result  of  Raoul's  experiment.  Sajipona  had  come 
to  her  immediately  after  its  conclusion  and,  judging  by 
the  quiet  cheerfulness  of  her  manner,  she  fancied  every- 
thing had  gone  to  her  satisfaction.  This  was  confirmed 
by  the  announcement  of  the  festival  that  was  shortly  to 
take  place.  This  festival,  Una  had  been  told,  was  to 
be  the  occasion  for  great  rejoicing  among  the  cave  peo- 
ple. It  was  a  sort  of  national  day,  a  celebration  that 
had  not  been  held  in  many  a  long  generation.  It  was 
intended  to  recall,  she  heard,  the  ancient  feast  of  El 
Dorado,  the  Gilded  Man,  about  which,  of  course,  as  it 
existed  among  the  Chibchas  before  the  period  of  the 
Spanish  invasion,  Una  was  familiar  through  the  tradi- 
tions as  told  by  David  and  Leighton.  What  form  this 
revival  of  the  old  ceremonies  would  take  had  not  been 
explained.  But  it  piqued  her  curiosity  and,  in  spite  of 
resentment  and  wounded  pride,  she  cherished  a  secret 
hope  that  it  would  bring  about  a  final  understanding  of 
David's  position  in  regard  to  Sajipona  and  herself.  She 
felt  sure  David  would  be  at  the  festival,  and  she  had 
an  intuitive  feeling  as  well  that  his  presence  would  dispel 
the  mystery  that  sundered  them.  She  did  not  look  for, 
nor  did  she  consciously  want  a  reconciliation.  Bitterly 
she  denied  herself  the  possibility  of  one.  But  she  wished 
to  know  definitely,  and  to  its  full  extent,  David's  faith- 
lessness to  her.  After  she  had  learned  this,  they  could 
not  start  on  their  homeward  journey  too  quickly. 

Still  absorbed  in  these  reflections,  Una  and  her  com- 
panions, under  Narva's  lead,  entered  the  great  court  of 
the  palace.     Una,  of  course,  had  grown  familiar  with 


328  THE  GILDED  MAN 

the  strange  features  to  be  found  in  this  hall  of  marvels; 
but  the  others,  entering  it  for  the  first  time,  were  amazed 
at  what  they  saw  there.  In  Leighton  this  feeling  of 
wonder  reached  its  highest  pitch.  The  shattering  of  one 
scientific  belief  after  another  that  he  had  experienced 
ever  since  entering  the  cave  left  him,  it  is  true,  some- 
what callous  to  new  impressions.  But  this  apathy,  if 
it  can  be  called  that,  melted  away  as  he  stood  beneath 
the  great  white  dome  that  soared  in  flashing  lines  above 
them.  Looking  up  at  the  huge  ball  of  fire  suspended 
just  beyond  the  apex  of  this  dome,  for  a  moment  he 
remained  speechless.  Then,  turning  to  his  companions, 
he  voiced  the  ecstasy  that  comes  with  some  unexpected, 
epoch-making  discovery. 

"Do  you  know  what  that  is?"  he  demanded. 

No  one  did.  Miranda  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
turned  his  attention  ostentatiously  elsewhere,  as  if  float- 
ing balls  of  crackling  white  flames,  used  to  illuminate 
caves,  were  matters  of  ordinary  experience  with  him. 
Andrew's  mouth  was  opened  quite  as  wide  as  his  eyes 
as  he  stood  staring  upward  at  the  curious  illumination. 
It  would  be  a  splendid  saving  of  candle  power,  he 
thought,  more  than  enough  for  the  whole  village,  if  they 
could  only  manage  to  take  it  back  with  them  to  Rysdale. 
But,  even  if  it  were  small  enough,  it  wouldn't  be  possible 
to  carry  in  one  of  their  trunks,  since  it  would  be  sure  to 
set  things  on  fire.  This  objection  was  made  by  Mrs. 
Quayle,  and  seemed  reasonable  enough. 

"That  is  the  most  remarkable  thing  on  earth,"  went 
on  Leighton,  heedless,  in  his  excitement,  of  the  frivolous 
comments  of  his  companions.  "I  have  often  thought 
that  sooner  or  later  something  like  this  would  be  dis- 


A  PEOPLE'S  DESTINY  329 

covered.  It  is  impossible  to  estimate  its  value.  Why, 
all  the  billions  of  dollars  that  there  are  in  the  world 
to-day  could  not  pay  for  it  at  the  present  market  prices." 

The  calm  assurance  with  which  this  estimate  was  given 
shattered  Miranda's  pose  of  studied  indifference. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked  sharply. 

"Radium!" 

The  silence  that  followed  was  eloquent  of  the  mingled 
incredulity  and  delight  with  which  so  staggering  an  an- 
nouncement was  received.  Leighton,  fascinated  with  his 
subject,  proceeded  to  explain  things,  much  as  if  he  were 
at  home  again  in  his  laboratory,  working  out  a  particu- 
larly novel  experiment,  and  expounding  his  various  the- 
ories of  physics.  Of  course,  he  had  nothing  but  theory 
to  go  on,  since  he  had  never  seen,  heard  of,  or  believed 
possible  such  a  huge  mass  of  radium  as  this  that  hung 
above  them.  And  because  it  was  so  unbelievably  huge, 
the  others  refused  at  first  to  take  it  for  what  he  said  it 
was.  But  he  insisted  that  it  could  be  nothing  else. 
Radium  it  was — and  with  this  as  his  basis  of  fact,  he 
quickly  built  up  an  imposing  theory  that  he  used  to 
explain  more  than  one  matter  that  before  had  puzzled 
them. 

This  immense  globe  of  radium,  he  believed,  in  the  first 
place,  was  the  parent-body  of  all  the  infinitesimal  par- 
ticles of  this  remarkable  substance  that  had  recently  been 
found  in  different  parts  of  the  world.  The  mysterious 
properties  of  radium,  he  said,  were  only  dimly  understood 
as  yet  by  physicists  whj  had  experimented  with  it.  Ap- 
parently it  was  a  mineral;  but  as  it  revealed  a  constant 
and  amazing  activity,  throwing  out  a  force  that  so  far 
had  baffled  analysis,  there  were  those  who  held  that  it 


330  THE  GILDED  MAN 

was  a  living,  or,  better  yet,  a  life-giving  substance.  The 
existence  of  this  immense  body  of  radium  here,  in  the 
center  of  the  cave,  explained,  to  the  satisfaction  of  Leigh- 
ton,  much  of  the  strange  phenomena  they  had  seen.  Here, 
obviously,  was  the  source  of  the  soft,  diffused  light  that 
had  puzzled  them  ever  since  they  passed  through  the 
Condor  Gate;  and  it  was  to  this  center  of  energy  that 
they  must  attribute  the  increase  in  buoyancy  and  physi- 
cal well-being  experienced  the  further  they  penetrated 
into  this  subterranean  world.  The  peculiar  growths, 
also,  half  vegetable,  half  mineral,  that  had  given  the 
appearance  of  groves  and  gardens  to  certain  portions  of 
the  cave  through  which  they  traveled,  were  undoubtedly 
due  to  this  marvelous  force,  occupying  the  same  relative 
position  towards  subterranean  life  that  the  sun  did  to  the 
outside  world  of  nature.  Moreover,  Leighton  firmly  be- 
lieved that  the  supremacy  of  radium  as  the  life-giver  in 
this  cave,  involved  the  existence,  as  they  would  discover, 
of  other  phenomena  having  still  more  subtle,  even 
psychic,  qualities.  Narva  grunted  significantly  at  this 
observation,  and  Una  confirmed  the  truth  of  it  by  relat- 
ing how  the  floor  of  the  court  where  they  were  standing 
had,  only  a  short  time  before,  reflected  a  series  of  pic- 
tures of  events  taking  place  in  the  outside  cave,  by 
means  of  which  they  had  been  able  to  follow  Leighton's 
approach  to  the  palace  and  watched  the  collision  of  his 
party  with  that  of  Raoul.  It  was  through  this  peculiar 
photographic  power  of  radium,  indeed,  that  Sajipona 
could  discover  whatever  was  taking  place  in  the  remotest 
regions  of  her  domain.  This  information  did  not  surprise 
Leighton  in  the  least.  On  the  contrary,  he  appeared  to 
take  it  as  a  matter  of  course,  one  of  many  marvels  that 


A  PEOPLE'S  DESTINY  331 

might  be  expected  in  a  land  run,  so  to  speak,  by  radium. 
Absorbed  in  the  discussion  of  these  matters,  no  one 
noticed  the  entrance  of  Sajipona.  The  queen,  coming 
from  the  apartment  where  she  had  left  David  and  Kaoul, 
was  not  in  a  hurry  to  make  her  presence  known,  and 
lingered  long  enough  behind  the  others  to  enjoy  the 
curiosity  and  wonder  with  which  they  were  regarding 
the  globe  of  light  above  them.  She  now  advanced  smil- 
ingly, addressing  herself  particularly  to  Leighton,  whom 
she  complimented  for  his  shrewd  guess  as  to  the  nature 
of  the  force  pervading  and  governing  the  cave.  Indian 
though  she  was,  inheritor  of  a  realm  that,  in  all  its  cus- 
toms and  beliefs,  was  primitive,  distant  from  the  civili- 
zations found  elsewhere  in  the  world  to-day,  she  had 
heard  and  studied  enough  of  Europe  and  America  to  be 
familiar  with  some  of  the  momentous  discoveries  of 
modern  science.  Hence,  she  had  been  quick  to  grasp 
the  fact  that  this  subterranean  sun,  worshiped  by  her 
ancestors  ages  ago  as  the  Life  Giver — the  God  that, 
according  to  Indian  legend,  resided  under  Lake  Guata- 
vita — was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  an  immense  body 
of  radium,  the  most  precious  substance  known  to  man, 
the  scarcity  of  which  had  led  scientists  to  ransack  the 
uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  in  the  hope  of  adding  to 
their  store  of  it.  Here  it  had  always  been,  the  one  price- 
less possession  of  her  people,  enabling  them  to  live  apart, 
independent  of  the  world  that  threatened  at  one  time 
to  exterminate  them.  How  this  radium  had  come  there 
originally  she  could  not  tell.  It  was  the  result,  doubt- 
less, of  hidden  forces  about  which  philosopher  and  scien- 
tist are  as  yet  ignorant.  Or,  it  might  itself  be  the  archi- 
tect of  the  subterranean  world  whose  extent  and  manifold 


332  THE  GILDED  MAN 

marvels  had  amazed  the  explorers.  By  means  of  this 
radium  force,  as  Una  had  told  them,  she  was  able  to  see 
what  was  happening  in  any  part  of  the  cave,  even 
throughout  that  dark  region  lying  beyond  the  Condor 
Gate — an  incredible  statement,  as  it  appeared  to  Leigh- 
ton.  For  they  had  been  in  this  outer  cave  and  discovered 
in  it  neither  the  light  nor  the  warmth  they  had  enjoyed 
on  this  side  the  Condor  Gate.  Hence,  argued  the  savant, 
this  outer  cave  appeared  to  lie  entirely  beyond  the  zone 
of  radium  influence.  Sajipona  smiled  at  Leighton's  objec- 
tion and  asked  him  if  nothing  had  occurred  in  the  outer 
cave,  while  he  was  there,  that  he  had  been  unable  to 
explain.  They  had  been  through  so  many  marvels  in 
so  short  a  time  that  the  explorers  looked  at  each  other 
doubtfully.    Mrs.  Quayle  answered  for  them. 

"Yes,  the  terrible  stone  that  pulled  off  my  jewelry, 
and  then  dragged  gold  up  from  the  lake  outside — how 
was  that  done?"  she  asked,  still  smarting,  apparently, 
from  the  indignities  she  had  suffered. 

"Oh,  that  was  merely  a  powerful  magnet  that  attracts 
gold  instead  of  iron,"  explained  Sajipona,  as  if  such 
trifling  matters  were  scarcely  worthy  to  be  ranked  with 
the  other  marvels  of  the  cave.  "This  magnet  played 
a  great  part,  centuries  ago,  in  gathering  together  all  the 
wealth  of  my  ancestors  from  the  Sacred  Lake  where  it 
had  been  cast  during  the  Feast  of  the  Gilded  Man. 
To-day  it  is  never  used  because  all  the  gold  has  been 
taken  out  of  the  lake.  But — was  there  nothing  else 
mysterious?" 

"Caramba!"  ejaculated  Miranda,  "I  know!  When  we 
come  in  from  the  outside,  all  is  open;  we  can  come  in 
and  we  can  come  out.    And  then,  this  little  old  woman 


A  PEOPLE'S  DESTINY  333 

is  frighten,  and  I  take  her  out.  That  is,  I  think  I  take 
her  out.  But  the  wall  is  shut,  and  we  cannot  see  where 
it  is.  We  are  in  prison.  Who  did  that?  There  is  no 
one  there." 

Sajipona  laughed. 

"Yes,  that  is  itl  No  one  was  there — except  Radium, 
the  influence  from  the  great  globe  hanging  above  us. 
Here,  you  see,  it  does  many  more  things  than  it  does 
in  your  outside  world.  It  is  really  the  eye  of  the  cave 
— and  sometimes  the  arm.  Although  its  light  does  not, 
as  you  know,  extend  into  the  outer  cave,  it  reflects  here, 
within  this  circle,  whatever  is  lighted  up  beyond  there. 
When  you  came  in  with  your  torches  I  was  able  to  follow 
you  by  this  means — very  obscurely,  of  course,  because 
torches  throw  only  a  small  circle  of  light.  I  could  hardly 
make  you  out,  but  I  felt  sure  who  you  were.  I  was 
expecting  you.  And  then,  because  I  needed  you  here 
and  feared  you  might  grow  tired  of  so  long  a  journey, 
I  shut  the  entrance  to  the  cave  so  you  could  not  escape. 
That  is  where  radium  works  like  an  arm.  It  can  carry 
an  electric  force,  an  irresistible  current,  without  using 
wire.  For  our  own  safety  we  have  this  force  connected 
with  the  entrance  to  the  cave.  When  that  entrance  is 
open  and  we  want  to  close  it,  this  force  is  released  and 
moves  a  great  rock  that  glides  into  place  across  the  pas- 
sageway, where  it  seems  to  be  a  part  of  the  wall  on  either 
side." 

This  dissertation  from  Sajipona  on  the  uses  to  which 
radium  had  been  put  in  her  kingdom  was  amazing 
enough  to  Leighton's  trained,  careful  mind.  In  his  own 
studies  of  radium  activity  he  had  failed  to  find  any  indi- 
cation of  the  possibility  even  for  the  development  of 


334  THE  GILDED  MAN 

the  sensational  features  that  were  now  given  to  him 
as  accomplished,  familiar  fact.  For  one  thing,  sci- 
ence was  restricted  in  its  experiments  by  the  small 
quantity  of  radium  within  its  reach.  Here  the  amount, 
estimating  the  size  of  the  fiery  globe  above  him,  was 
measured  by  the  hundreds  of  tons — a  fact,  of  course, 
that  must  greatly  increase  the  field  over  which  radium 
might  be  made  to  operate.  Nevertheless,  except  for  this 
vague  theory  that  an  unknown  power  could  be  developed 
from  a  great  mass  of  this  marvelous  substance,  suspended 
in  a  great  chamber,  or  series  of  chambers,  not  subject 
to  the  ordinary  outside  influences  of  heat  and  light  and 
air,  it  was  difficult  to  find  a  reasonable  explanation  for 
the  things  that  Sajipona  told  him  and  that  he  himself 
had  seen.  Most  astounding  it  was,  also,  to  a  modern 
scientist,  brought  up  in  the  methods  and  limited  by  the 
views  of  his  age,  to  discover  here  a  development  in 
physics,  beyond  the  dreams  of  the  most  daring  investi- 
gator, that  actually  belonged  to  a  primitive  race,  and  was 
first  practiced  by  them  in  a  period  and  country  without 
scientific  culture.  The  whole  affair,  indeed,  furnished  an 
instance  where  science  seemed  to  overstep  the  borderland 
of  the  miraculous.  It  was  as  marvelous,  after  all,  as 
the  familiar  achievements  of  wireless  or  the  cinema  would 
have  been  if  suddenly  presented  to  the  world  of  half  a 
century  ago. 

Enjoying  the  savant's  bewilderment,  Sajipona  described 
more  of  the  cave's  wonders.  Her  forefathers,  she  said, 
had  discovered  a  way  to  imitate  the  changes  from  day 
to  night  by  a  simple  process  of  veiling  and  unveiling  the 
ball  of  radium.  This  was  found  necessary  in  order  to 
create  the  right  variations  between  growth  and  a  state 


A  PEOPLE'S  DESTINY  335 

of  rest  in  vegetation.  When  circumstances  made  it 
desirable  to  use  the  cave  as  a  permanent  habitation,  it 
was  found  that  this  variation  from  light  to  darkness  was 
indispensable  to  human  welfare.  Without  it  there  could 
be  Httle  of  the  happiness  that  comes  from  the  storing  up 
and  the  subsequent  expenditure  of  human  energy.  Dis- 
covering this,  certain  wise  Indians  among  the  cavemen 
of  the  past  made  further  experiments  in  the  regulation 
of  light  and  heat.  Among  other  things,  these  pioneers  in 
a  new  science  found  that  the  color  rays  emanating  from 
'radium  had  different  properties — some  being  more  life- 
giving  than  others — and  that  by  controlling  these  rays 
it  was  possible  to  create  and  develop  various  kinds  of 
subterranean  plants.  They  firmly  believed,  also,  that  by 
working  along  these  lines  it  would  be  possible  to  arrive 
at  new  animal  forms.  Some  remarkable  experiments  were 
made  in  this  direction,  but  the  results  were  too  indefinite 
for  practical  purposes.  The  whole  problem  was  there- 
fore abandoned  years  ago,  its  unpopularity  having  been 
increased  by  the  religious  prejudice  excited  against  it. 
This  intrusion  of  what  he  regarded  as  blind  superstition 
upon  the  profitable  labors  of  science  incensed  Leighton, 
who  muttered  imprecations  on  the  idolatries  of  barbar- 
ians. But  in  this  he  was  checked  by  Sajipona,  who  de- 
clared that  the  religious  beliefs  of  her  people  were  in  no 
sense  more  idolatrous  than  many  of  the  beliefs  current 
in  the  outside  world.  They  had  their  fantastic  legends, 
it  is  true — like  the  story  of  the  god  who,  through  the 
ascendancy  of  an  evil  rival,  had  been  imprisoned  for 
ages  at  the  bottom  of  the  Sacred  Lake,  whence  he  had 
been  released  by  the  prayers  and  sacrifices  of  his  fol- 
lowers.    Such  legends  the  more  enlightened  regarded 


336  THE  GILDED  MAN 

purely  as  fables,  within  which  were  conveyed  certain 
truths  that  were  of  lasting  value  to  mankind.  The  igno- 
rant probably  failed  to  recognize  these  truths  underneath 
their  coverings  of  legend.  But  it  was  not  merely  the 
ignorant,  it  was  those  who  possessed  a  higher  religious 
sense  who  were  revolted  by  the  effort  to  create  animal 
life  through  artificial  means.  This  feeling  of  antagonism 
arose  simply  because  in  the  last  of  the  experiments  at- 
tempted by  the  Indian  wise  men,  certain  forms  were 
developed,  giving  feeble  signs  of  life,  and  indicating 
unmistakably  that  if  they  were  ever  endowed  with  a 
complete,  independent  existence,  they  would  become  a 
race  of  malevolent  beings,  a  menace  to  all  existing  insti- 
tutions and  peoples.  Hence,  these  wise  men  were  coun- 
seled by  the  more  practical  and  simple-minded  of  their 
contemporaries  to  abandon  the  role  of  creator,  leaving 
the  production  of  life  to  the  rude  and  bungling  methods 
to  which  Nature  was  accustomed.  They  were  loath  to 
yield  in  this,  but  public  opinion  became  too  strong  for 
them;  the  religious  element  conquered — and  these  sa- 
vants of  old  turned  their  attention  to  a  new  problem  that 
had  already  been  suggested  by  their  partial  experiments 
in  the  creation  of  life,  and  that  promised  something  really 
worth  while.  This  new  problem  involved  the  regulation 
of  man's  moral  and  intellectual  natures,  not  through  the 
teaching  of  ideas,  but  by. the  employment  of  physical  and 
chemical  forces. 

It  had  been  discovered  long  before  that  the  Radium 
Sun  controlled  the  subterranean  life  coming  within  its 
influence.  But  as  this  sun  was  itself  capable  of  regula- 
tion, many  novel — and  safe — departures  in  human  devel- 
opment were  made  possible  by  an  intelligent  practice  of 


A  PEOPLE'S  DESTINY  337 

the  new  solar  science.  Here  again,  as  in  the  experiments 
with  plants,  it  was  the  variation  of  colors,  of  light  and 
darkness,  that  furnished  the  key  to  what  the  Indian 
savants  were  after.  Thus,  it  was  learned  that  certain 
radium  colors  had  an  affinity  for  certain  moral  attributes. 
These  moral  attributes  could,  for  this  reason,  be  greatly 
increased  by  placing  the  man  or  woman  to  be  operated  on 
in  a  properly  regulated  color  bath.  Unfortunately,  these 
wise  men  had  not  continued  their  experiments  with  this 
Theory  of  Colors  after  reaching  the  first  few  crude  results. 
k.— -  They  lost  interest  in  the  subject  when  its  intensely  prac- 
tical nature  became  apparent.  Hence,  a  complete  clas- 
sification of  all  the  colors  and  combinations  of  colors, 
v/ith  their  moral  and  intellectual  affinities,  was  still  lack- 
ing. But  enough  was  discovered  to  be  of  real,  positive 
benefit  in  the  education  of  the  cavemen  and  in  keeping 
order  among  them.  People  who  were  harassed  by  do- 
mestic troubles,  for  instance,  were  put  through  a  course 
of  color  treatment;  wives  who  were  tempted  to  leave 
their  husbands,  or  husbands  who  got  tired  of  their  wives 
(as,  it  seems,  they  sometimes  did  in  the  Land  of  the 
Condor)  were  plunged  into  color-baths,  varied  accord- 
ing to  the  exact  nature  of  the  complaint  from  which 
they  were  suffering,  and  kept  in  these  baths  until  they 
were  brought  back  to  a  reasonable  frame  of  mind. 
And  then,  in  matters  that  affected  the  well-being  of 
the  whole  community — matters  that  in  the  outside 
world  would  give  rise  to  various  political  panaceas — 
it  was  a  simple  application  of  the  Color  Theory  that 
would  straighten  things  out.  It  was  found,  for  instance, 
that  yellow  rays  from  the  Radium  Sun  stimulated  gen- 
erosity.    Thus,  in  the  case  of    a  man  whose  intense 


338  THE  GILDED  MAN 

acquisitiveness  threatened  to  monopolize  the  wealth  of 
the  community,  a  steady  application  of  yellow  rays  was 
sure  to  be  beneficial,  if  not  to  him,  at  least  to  those  about 
him. 

A  case  of  this  kind,  indeed,  had  been  recently  operated 
on  in  this  way.  The  patient  had  accumulated  such  vast 
wealth  that  he  had  grown  to  be  a  public  inconvenience. 
As  his  business  dealings,  however,  did  not  come  within 
reach  of  the  criminal  law,  and  as  his  wealth  was  thus  due 
to  his  natural  bent  for  finance,  the  courts  could  not  touch 
him.  He  was,  therefore,  placed — not  by  way  of  punish- 
ment, but  as  a  mark  of  public  esteem — in  a  bath  of 
yellow  light.  The  effect  was  extraordinary  and  bore  out 
all  the  claims  of  the  originators  of  the  Color  Theory.  He 
had  not  been  in  this  yellow  bath  more  than  a  few  hours 
before  he  began  to  part  with  his  wealth.  On  the  second 
day  he  became  more  reckless  in  his  benefactions,  and  this 
frenzy  for  giving  away  what  he  had  before  so  jealously 
guarded  from  his  neighbors,  increased  at  so  rapid  a  rate 
that  by  the  end  of  a  week  his  entire  fortune  had  passed, 
through  his  own  voluntary  act,  into  the  hands  of  the 
government  and  various  benevolent  institutions.  When 
he  had  nothing  more  to  give,  it  was  decided  that  he  had 
had  enough  of  the  yellow  treatment.  He  was  then  re- 
leased from  the  honors  the  State  had  showered  upon  him, 
and  passed  the  rest  of  his  life  rejoicing  in  his  penniless 
condition. 

Then,  there  was  the  case  of  a  man  who  had  grown  tired 
of  his  wife,  and  who  had  outraged  the  sense  of  the  com- 
munity by  leaving  her.  He  was  captured  and  placed  in 
a  bath  of  green  light.  In  a  very  short  time  he  got  over 
his  roving  propensities  and  became  so  persistent  in  his 


A  PEOPLE'S  DESTINY  339 

attentions  to  his  wife  that,  in  order  to  give  her  some 
peace,  he  was  put  into  another  bath  having  a  slightly 
neutralizing  effect  on  the  first,  or  green,  bath.  Thus,  the 
marital  troubles  of  this  couple  were  completely  and  finally 
straightened  out  and  they  lived  amicably  together  with- 
out the  tiresome  intervention  of  mutual  friends,  or  of 
the  law  courts. 

The  interesting  possibilities  of  this  Color  Theory  in 
penology  and  in  the  regulation  of  domestic  affairs,  did 
not  escape  Leighton.  He  had  himself  believed  that  in 
the  latest  discoveries  in  physics  there  might  be  found  a 
connecting  link  between  the  science  of  matter  and  the 
science  of  mind.  His  natural  skepticism,  however,  did 
not  allow  him  to  accept  too  readily  all  of  Sajipona's 
amazing  statements.  He  doubted  her  real  knowledge 
of  these  abstruse  subjects.  She  spoke  of  these  matters, 
indeed,  crudely,  not  with  the  familiarity  as  to  detail  of 
a  trained  scientist.  What  she  said  had  all  the  simplicity, 
and  much  of  the  fantastic  absurdity,  of  a  fairy  tale.  But 
beneath  its  extravagance  there  was  enough  substance 
to  her  story,  and  the  theory  upon  which  it  was  based, 
to  make  it  worthy  a  scientist's  consideration.  For  one 
thing,  it  changed  completely  the  notion  Leighton  had 
already  formed  of  this  subterranean  world.  The  story, 
for  instance,  of  the  chastened  millionaire  took  into  ac- 
count a  complex  social  system  that  was  utterly  unthink- 
able in  a  region  so  confined  territorially,  so  limited,  by 
reason  of  its  peculiar  situation,  as  regards  human  activ- 
ity, as  this  so-called  Land  of  the  Condor.  The  inhabi- 
tants of  the  cave,  from  what  he  had  seen  of  them — in 
the  straggling  village  they  had  passed  through  with 
Narva,  and  among  the  followers  of  Raoul — gave  no  indi- 


340  THE  GILDED  MAN 

cation  of  a  culture  superior  to  that  shown  by  people  just 
emerging  from  savagery.  These  cavemen,  certainly,  had 
not  reached  that  stage  of  enlightenment  from  which  is 
developed  the  millionaire  capitalist  of  whose  interesting 
ventures  in  monopoly  Sajipona  had  told  them.  In  the 
ill-fated  Anitoo,  however,  and  his  men,  and  in  the  people 
surrounding  Sajipona,  there  was  evidence  of  social  and 
mental  superiority.  The  two  men  who  served  as  the 
queen's  ambassadors  in  the  garden,  and  who  were  distin- 
guished from  the  rest  by  their  red  robes,  belonged  either 
to  a  priesthood,  or  to  some  order  that  placed  them  intel- 
lectually above  the  common  rank.  They  were  undoubt- 
edly learned  far  beyond  the  Indian  average.  One  of 
them,  indeed,  was  with  Sajipona  in  the  court,  and 
prompted  her  more  than  once  during  her  explanation  of 
the  Radium  Sun  and  its  uses.  He  spoke  in  a  low  voice, 
and  in  a  language  unintelligible  to  the  Americans.  From 
his  bearing  and  fluency  of  speech,  Leighton  concluded 
that  he  was  one  of  the  commonwealth's  so-called  "wise 
men,"  an  investigator,  possibly,  in  those  physical  and 
psychological  phenomena  that  held  out  such  tantalizing 
promise  of  new  conquests  in  the  domain  of  human 
knowledge. 

Sajipona  was  quick  to  perceive  the  difficulties  arising 
in  Leighton's  mind  in  regard  to  her  narrative,  but  she 
referred  to  another  occasion  a  description  of  the  science, 
religious  beliefs,  social  institutions  and  customs  of  the 
subterranean  people.  In  attempting  such  a  task,  she 
declared  that  the  priest  at  her  side,  whom  she  addressed 
with  befitting  reverence  as  Omono,  Teacher  of  Mankind, 
would  be  far  more  capable  than  she.  For  it  was  Omono, 
with  his  companion,  Saenzias,  who  received  and  carried 


A  PEOPLE'S  DESTINY  341 

out  the  laws  and  traditions  of  their  race — always  subject, 
of  course,  to  her  own  authority — and  it  was  by  them  that 
these  laws  were  further  perfected  before  being  passed 
on  to  the  two  priests  who  would  succeed  them  in  admin- 
istering the  affairs  of  the  kingdom. 

"You  are  puzzled,  naturally,"  she  said,  "to  hear  of 
the  existence  of  wealth  and  poverty,  charitable  institu- 
tions and  governments,  science  and  religion,  in  a  kingdom 
whose  boundaries  are  within  the  walls  of  a  cave.  But 
you  have  seen  only  a  small  part  of  this  Land  of  the  Con- 
dor. On  every  side  it  extends  many  miles  further  under- 
ground. And  in  the  South  from  here,  not  a  great  distance, 
there  is  a  vast  region — unknown  to  the  rest  of  the  world 
— filled  with  mountains,  fertile  valleys,  rivers,  and  bodies 
of  water  strewn  like  jewels  over  plains  that  yield  an 
abundance  sufficient  for  all  mankind.  This  land  is  at 
the  mouth  of  our  subterranean  world.  It  lies  in  the 
heart  of  that  region  marked  'unexplored'  by  your  map- 
makers.  We  have  no  fear  that  it  will  ever  pass  from 
dur  hands,  that  it  will  ever  be  more  than  a  blank  patch 
on  your  maps,  for  on  every  side  it  is  defended  by  unscal- 
able cliffs  of  snow  and  ice.  It  can  be  reached  only  through 
this  ancient  cave.  Perhaps,  in  the  ages  to  come,  when 
the  people  of  the  outside  world  and  of  this  race  that  has 
lived  here  in  an  unbroken  line  as  far  back  as  the  memory 
of  man  can  go,  have  been  perfected,  these  barriers  will 
be  thrown  down.  Such  has  been  the  prophecy  of  some 
of  our  wise  men;  and  to-day  Omono  and  Saenzias  tell 
us  that  this  final  period  of  perfection  is  rapidly  approach- 
ing. It  may  be  that  before  you  go  out  again  into  your 
own  world,  you  will  see  more  of  the  wonders  of  this 
Land  of  the  Condor,  and  of  the  unknown  Land  of  the 


342  THE  GILDED  MAN 

Sun  that  lies  at  its  door.  There  are  cities  out  there,  built 
with  an  art  that  is  only  rudely  possible  in  our  under- 
ground home.  Here,  you  are  amazed  at  the  cunning  of 
some  of  our  work.  You  wonder  that  a  race  of  moles 
could  conjure  wealth  and  beauty  out  of  a  cavern  that  is 
never  opened  to  the  airs  of  heaven.  But  in  our  Land  of 
the  Sun  there  are  marvels  far  greater  than  these.  In 
both  regions  you  will  see  the  work  of  the  same  people; 
but  here  where  you  stand  is  the  center  of  our  race,  or — 
as  you  would  call  it — our  seat  of  government.  It  is 
here,  because  of  the  Radium  Sun  above  us,  that  we  find 
our  strength.  But  it  is  outside,  in  the  Land  of  the  Sun, 
that  the  millions  who  call  me  their  queen,  are  working 
out  the  destinies  of  future  generations.  Before  these  last 
years  your  people  and  our  people  have  kept  apart.  You 
were  ignorant  of  our  existence,  and  we  held  aloof  from 
you,  remembering  the  cruelty  and  injustice  of  which  you 
were  guilty  centuries  ago.  But  the  time  has  come,  so 
Omono  and  Saenzias  declare,  when  our  two  worlds  must 
venture  the  first  step  in  the  knowledge  of  each  other. 
Through  me  this  experiment  will  take  place.  You  are 
instruments  in  it.  To-day  decides  the  success  or  failure 
of  our  plan.  The  wealth  of  our  kingdom  we  have  guarded 
all  these  centuries,  not  for  ourselves  only.  To  increase 
it  we  must  share  it  with  the  outside  world.  But  if  the 
outside  world  is  not  ready,  if  it  still  exists  merely  to  plun- 
der the  wealth  others  have  gathered,  we  will  wait,  if  need 
be,  for  another  flight  of  centuries." 

Sajipona's  announcement  aroused  an  immense  curios- 
ity among  the  explorers.  What  did  she  mean?  they  asked 
each  other.  How  was  this  working  out  of  their  mutual 
destinies  to  be  accomplished  at  this  particular  time  and 


A  PEOPLE'S  DESTINY  343 

through  them?  From  Narva  they  had  heard  vaguely  of 
a  festival  that  was  to  be  celebrated — and  now  they 
learned  that  the  hour  for  it  was  at  hand.  Sajipona  told 
them  this,  and  as  the  information  followed  immediately 
upon  what  she  had  let  them  know  of  her  aspirations 
regarding  the  future  of  her  people,  they  concluded  that 
in  some  mysterious  way,  the  festival  and  the  fate  of  this 
subterranean  kingdom  were  bound  together.  They  waited 
to  hear  more  but,  apparently,  Sajipona  had  finished  all 
she  had  to  say  to  them.  Turning  to  Una,  she  led  her 
-apart  from  the  others.  The  two  talked  earnestly  to- 
gether, the  one  protesting,  the  other  entreating.  Finally, 
Sajipona  appeared  to  succeed  in  her  request,  whatever 
it  was,  and  taking  Una's  hand  walked  with  her  to  a 
distant  part  of  the  hall.  Here  a  door  was  thrown  open. 
Una  entered  the  apartment  beyond,  the  door  closing  be- 
hind her.  It  was  all  so  quickly  done,  the  others  barely 
realized  that  Una  had  left  them  before  they  were  re- 
joined by  Sajipona,  who  spoke  to  them  as  if  nothing  had 
happened. 

"Let  us  go,"  she  said.    "The  festival  is  ready.    There 
is  no  time  to  lose." 


XXIII 


THE  GILDED  MAN 


AFTER  leaving  Sajipona,  Una  found  herself  in  an 
apartment  small  compared  with  the  spacious  courts 
and  chambers  she  had  seen  elsewhere  in  the  palace.  This 
apartment  differed,  also,  in  its  furnishings — a  few  un- 
compromising stone  benches  along  the  walls  and  nothing 
more — while  the  dim  light  gave  to  everything  a  gloomy, 
uninviting  character.  But  Una  was  in  no  mood  to  linger; 
the  queen's  words  had  filled  her  with  an  anxiety  that 
must  be  appeased  at  once.  Hurrying  down  the  middle 
of  the  long  room,  she  reached,  at  the  further  end,  a  sort 
of  staircase,  or  ramp,  leading  upward  in  long,  sweeping 
spirals  to  a  height  that  was  lost  in  intervening  walls  and 
clustered  columns.  Mounting  this  ramp,  she  noted  with 
pleasure  that  as  the  ground  floor  receded  everything  light- 
ened. Judging  by  the  splendid  upward  curve  of  the 
walls,  she  concluded  that  she  must  be  ascending  a  gallery 
winding  around  the  great  central  dome  of  the  court 
where,  a  moment  before,  she  had  listened  with  the  others 
to  Sajipona's  account  of  the  mysteries  of  the  cave.  On 
the  inner  side  of  the  gallery,  the  side  overhanging  the 
court,  the  wall  was  semi-transparent,  and  through  it 
sparkled  flashes  of  the  radium  light  flooding  the  great 
chamber  within.    Light  came,  also,  from  the  opposite 

344 


THE  GILDED  MAN  345 

side,  filtering  downward,  apparently  through  another 
medium,  from  the  central  luminary  above.  The  air  grew 
warmer;  there  were  faint  perfumes,  as  if  of  essences 
distilled  from  tropical  flowers,  that  thrilled  with  a 
delightful  drowsiness.  Soft  echoes  from  distant  music 
increased  this  feeling  of  restfulness.  Sound  and  fragrance 
were  so  subtly  united,  they  seemed  so  completely  an 
irradiation  from  the  inner  spirit  brooding  over  the  place, 
that  one  accepted  them  as  being  utterly  natural,  utterly 
free  from  the  startling  or  the  marvelous. 

Una  could  not  guess  the  source  of  the  liquid,  musical 
notes.  They  might  have  come  from  the  quaint  instru- 
ments she  had  seen  so  deftly  played  upon  by  the  cave- 
men marching  with  Anitoo,  or  from  the  lyre  that,  at 
Sajipona's  touch,  gave  forth  such  plaintive  melodies. 
But  the  music  she  listened  to  now  was  not  continuous; 
its  lack  of  formal  melody,  unity  of  theme,  gave  it  a 
quality  different  from  anything  she  had  ever  heard.  In 
the  outer  world  it  might  have  been  taken  for  the  wind- 
song  sweeping  through  tossed  branches  of  forest  trees. 
But  here  there  was  neither  wind  nor  forest.  The  air 
was  motionless,  and  had  ever  been  so;  the  vast  spaces 
seemed  filled  with  the  unruffled  sleep  of  centuries.  Down 
below,  in  the  great  court,  and  even  in  the  palace  garden, 
saturated  with  light  and  beauty  though  both  were,  one 
felt  something  of  the  chill  mystery  that  penetrates  all 
underground  places.  Here  there  was  mystery,  but  it 
was  a  kind  that  soothed  rather  than  terrified.  Tier  by 
tier,  as  Una  passed  along  the  slender  white  columns  en- 
closing the  gallery  up  which  she  was  ascending,  the  sense 
of  gloom,  foreboding,  that  had  weighed  upon  her  until 
now,  was  weakened.    She  felt  the  magic  of  a  new  world 


346  THE  GILDED  MAN 

of  romance  and  adventure.  She  was  at  the  very  heart 
of  its  secret.  Flashes  of  color  in  paneled  niches  along 
the  walls  piqued  her  curiosity.  Robes  of  vivid  scarlet, 
hiding  limbs  of  sparkling  whiteness,  it  might  be,  hung 
just  beyond  her  reach.  Further  on  these  niches  were 
filled  with  glittering  masses  of  gold,  heaped  high  in  bar- 
baric scorn  of  art  or  fitness.  Rudely  fashioned  crowns, 
massive  enough  to  have  burdened  their  wearers  with  more 
than  the  traditional  care  that  goes  with  royalty;  arm- 
lets, breastplates,  tiaras  heavy  with  emeralds — in  deep 
recesses,  row  on  row,  from  story  to  story,  these  witnesses 
of  the  pomp  and  pride  of  fallen  nations,  were  thrown 
together  in  a  careless  profusion  possible  only  in  an  Alad- 
din's palace  of  marvels. 

As  Una  hurried  past  she  realized  with  a  thrill  that  she 
was  in  the  ancient  treasure-house  of  a  once  mighty  em- 
pire. The  fruit  of  the  earth's  richest  mines,  brought 
here  by  the  labor  and  cunning  of  centuries,  lay  at  her 
hand.  It  seemed  impossible  that  all  this  jeweled  splen- 
dor could  have  escaped  the  fires  of  war  and  crime  that 
had  kindled  within  the  breasts  of  millions  who  had  sacri- 
ficed their  lives  merely  to  grasp  some  small  portion  of 
it.  Fascinating  baubles  now  were  these  relics  of  past 
greatness,  dainty  or  rude,  meaningless,  or  eloquent  of 
forgotten  faiths  and  legends.  Innocent  of  harm  they 
seemed,  a  passing  feast  for  the  eye,  trophies  to  celebrate 
and  adorn  feminine  loveliness,  but  no  longer  a  madness 
in  the  bones  of  men. 

Thus,  vaguely,  did  this  vision  of  ancient  riches  appear 
to  Una.  Gold  and  jewels,  robes  and  ornaments  wrought 
by  an  art  that  had  been  lost  long  since — the  rich  color, 
the    G;litter   of   all    these   things    delighted    her.     They 


THE  GILDED  MAN  347 

seemed  a  part — the  visible  part — of  the  music  and  fra- 
grance with  which  the  winding  gallery  of  marvels  was 
filled.  It  appeared  to  her  that  she  was  on  the  threshold 
of  some  great  awakening  experience.  She  knew  that 
it  was  David  whom  she  would  see;  and  this  knowledge 
started  a  strange  conflict  of  emotions.  The  memory  of 
his  lack  of  faith,  the  incomprehensible  manner  in  which 
he  had  turned  from  her,  brought  humiliation,  anger.  But 
the  first  bitterness  that  went  with  all  this  had  lost  its 
corrosive  power.  The  spell  of  the  ancient  Indian  race 
whose  secrets  she  was  exploring  was  upon  her.  Her 
senses  were  soothed  by  the  mysterious  beauty  of  these 
enchanted  corridors.  Here  she  would  see  David — and 
the  thought  was  indefinitely  satisfying.  She  did  not 
know  whether  she  could  forgive  him,  whether  she  could 
become  reconciled  to  a  disloyalty  that  had  so  easily 
swerved  him  from  the  most  sacred  of  vows.  But  after 
all  it  was  witchcraft — only  witchcraft  could  work  such 
things  as  these — that  had  estranged  him  from  her.  This 
she  knew  because  the  inner  heart  of  her  own  love  re- 
mained as  it  had  ever  been.  He  was  still  David.  He 
needed  her,  he  was  unhappy.  Outwardly  he  might  seem 
faithless  as  the  most  shameless  Proteus  of  romance.  Nev- 
ertheless, there  was  something  else,  something  that  even 
Sajipona  could  not  know,  but  that  she  knew  and  that 
bound  him  to  her.  It  was  for  this  she  had  followed  him 
through  inconceivable  adventures — for  this,  one  danger 
after  another  had  been  faced  and  overcome.  And  now 
all  this  misery  had  reached  a  happy  ending.  He  was 
here,  awaiting  her  like  some  prince  in  a  fairy  palace. 
Sajipona  had  promised  it,  had  brought  them  together 


348  THE  GILDED  MAN 

at  last.  She  felt  his  presence  before  she  heard  his  voice. 
And  then  he  spoke  to  her: 

"Una,  what  new  witchcraft  has  brought  you  herel" 

He  stood  at  a  turn  in  the  gallery  up  which  she  was 
ascending.  As  their  eyes  met,  the  distant,  wind-blown 
music,  the  subtle  fragrance  of  flowers,  seemed  to  bring 
into  this  palace  of  mystery  and  enchantment  the  fields 
and  meadows  of  Rysdale.  There  she  and  David  weie 
again  together,  vowing  their  first  love.  The  harmonies 
of  brooks,  birds,  the  ripples  that  sped  their  canoe  past 
woodland  and  down  shaded  valleys,  the  thousand  inti- 
mate details  of  the  springtide  loved  of  lovers,  were  about 
them  once  more.  For  the  David  who  stood  beside  her 
in  the  queen's  treasure-house  was  the  David  of  that  far- 
off,  peaceful  countryside,  not  the  strange  being  she  had 
met  for  that  brief  dark  moment  in  front  of  Sajipona's 
palace.  At  the  first  glance  she  could  see  he  had  passed 
through  some  vital  change  since  then.  He  was  no  longer 
as  a  man  walking  in  dreams.  There  was  no  troubled 
uncertainty  in  his  face,  no  faltering  in  his  step.  He  came 
to  her  now,  all  his  soul  in  his  eyes,  but  with  perplexed 
look  for  all  that,  as  if  the  destiny  that  had  parted  them 
had  not  yet  consented  to  their  reunion. 

"I  have  been  dreaming,"  he  said  simply.  "It  was  an 
old  dream,  I  find.  Now  that  I  am  awake,  some  lights 
and  shadows  from  my  dream-world  remain  to  haunt 
me." 

His  brief  explanation  of  the  strange  mental  experience 
he  had  just  been  through  was  scarcely  needed.  Una 
told  him  how  they  had  searched  for  him,  how  they  had 
finally  heard  of  this  cave  and  of  his  first  adventure  in  it. 
And  then,  how,  tracking  him  to  this  place,  they  had  met 


THE  GILDED  MAN  349 

Sajipona  and  learned  of  the  wonders  of  her  underground 
kingdom. 

"We  are  awaiting  the  festival  now,"  she  said  wist- 
fully. "She  told  me  of  it,  and  sent  me  here  to  meet 
you.  I  think  it  must  have  begun  already.  The  music 
— it  must  be  the  music  for  the  Gilded  Man — has  grown 
louder  and  louder  as  I  have  climbed  this  wonderful  gal- 
lery. Sajipona  and  the  rest  will  meet  us — it  must  be 
just  there,  beyond." 

They  had  clasped  each  other's  hands,  their  eyes  looked 
their  fill.  But  now  they  stood  apart,  their  faces  averted, 
words  of  passionate  avowal  unuttered  on  David's  lips. 

"The  festival!     I  know!"  David  exclaimed. 

Then  he  turned  again  to  Una,  taking  her  hand  and 
trying  to  disguise  the  grief  that  was  all  too  plain  in  words 
and  manner.  He  told  her  of  Sajipona's  kindness,  of  his 
gratitude  to  her.  He  described  something  of  her  plans 
to  redeem  her  people  from  the  ill  fortune  that  had  shut 
them  out  from  the  rest  of  the  world.  All  this,  he  said, 
could  not  be  accomplished  right  away;  but  the  first  step 
would  be  taken  now.  David  had  a  part  to  play  in  the 
working  out  of  the  queen's  plan.  But  just  what  he  was 
to  do,  what  this  part  was,  he  guessed  only  vaguely.  The 
bringing  together  of  the  ancient  people  with  the  new,  the 
Indian  race  with  their  white  conquerors — something  of 
the  kind  was  in  her  mind.  The  vast  store  of  wealth, 
also,  that  they  saw  about  them  was  to  be  distributed 
among  those  who  needed  it.  Sajipona  and  her  people 
had  long  since  ceased  to  care  for  this  treasure  that  had 
brought  such  untold  suffering  and  misfortune  to  their 
race.  But  they  would  not  part  with  it  until  they  were 
certain  of  their  recompense.    And  perhaps  they  wouldn't 


350  THE  GILDED  MAN 

part  with  it  at  all — there  seemed  to  be  a  curse  attached 
to  these  blood-stained  emeralds  and  gold. 

In  all  this,  perhaps  symbolically,  the  festival,  the  first 
strains  of  which  they  could  hear,  would  have  much  to  do 
— and  Sajipona  and  he  were  to  be  the  leading  figures 
in  that  festival.  He  had  consented  to  this — freely.  The 
declaration  was  made  with  melancholy  emphasis.  It 
seemed  to  Una  the  death-knell  to  their  happiness.  It 
placed  David  suddenly  in  a  world  quite  outside  her  own, 
as  if  all  along  his  life  had  been,  must  be,  apart  from 
hers.  There  could  be  only  one  reason  for  this,  of  course 
— Sajipona  1     Una  seized  upon  it  bitterly. 

"You  have  always  loved  her!"  she  cried. 

David  did  not  answer.  The  fates  that  had  brought 
them  to  this  pass  were  much  too  intricate  to  be  lightly 
disentangled.  Sajipona  was  to  him  a  being  exquisitely 
beautiful — beautiful  in  every  way — the  most  perfect 
woman  he  had  known.  But  there  was  a  strength  and 
glory  in  her  loveliness  that  placed  her  above  the  reach 
of  mere  human  affection.  She  was  a  being  separate  and 
distinct  from  all  others — and  yet  necessary  to  the  very 
existence  of  the  thousands  who  seemed  to  be  dependent 
on  her.  It  might  be  love  that  he  felt  for  her — but  it 
was  more  like  the  adoration  with  which  one  regards 
something  sacred,  infinitely  distant  and  beyond  our  own 
likings  and  frailties.  This  feeling  of  adoration  might, 
indeed,  have  been  transformed  into  the  passion  called 
love.  This  surely  would  have  happened  had  it  not  been 
for  one  thing 

"Una,  I  love  youl" 

She  started,  looking  wonderingly  at  him.  How  could 
he  say  that  to  her  now,  after  all  that  had  passed?    Could 


THE  GILDED  MAN  351 

it  be  possible  that  he  was  still  in  that  strange  dream-state 
from  which,  he  declared,  he  had  been  so  happily  awak- 
ened? Ah,  but  it  was  in  that  dream-state  that  he  did 
not  love  her,  did  not  even  know  her!  And  now — ^her 
own  exclamation  was  eloquent  of  the  doubt,  the  amaze- 
ment with  which  she  heard  him — 

"David!" 

"But,  it  is  perfectly  true,"  he  protested.  "Why  don't 
you  believe  me?  You  always  have  believed  me!  What 
is  before  us  I  cannot  tell  for  certain.  Sajipona  has  my 
_word,  and  whatever  she  commands  I  will  do.  I  owe  her 
my  life.  More  than  that — the  faith  that  a  man  gives 
to  one  whose  beauty  has  opened  to  him  the  depths  of 
his  own  soul.  But  this  has  nothing  to  do  with  us.  This 
is  not  love.  Come  what  will,  I  love  you,  Una.  I  love 
you — I  love  you ! " 

They  looked  at  each  other  fearfully.  There  might 
be  logic,  of  a  sort — logic  born  of  a  kind  of  poetic  exalta- 
tion— in  the  distinction  that  David  tried  to  draw  between 
the  two  women  and  his  own  feeling  for  them.  Circum- 
stances, however,  were  stronger  than  argument.  They 
felt  the  approach  of  disaster.  By  David's  own  confes- 
sion, if  Sajipona  willed  it,  their  love  was  lost.  For  the 
first  time  Una  realized  that  it  was  not  David,  not  any- 
thing really  tangible,  but  a  power  outside  of  him  that 
kept  them  apart.  Against  the  apparent  evidence  of  her 
senses,  her  faith  in  David  was  restored.  She  knew  him 
now,  she  felt,  as  she  had  never  known  him  before.  And 
they  loved — that  was  enough.  It  was  all  very  difficult  to 
unravel,  the  maze  they  were  in.  There  might  be  endless 
tragedy  at  the  next  turn  of  the  gallery.  But  at  least 
there  was  love  here,  if  only  for  the  briefest  of  moments. 


352  THE  GILDED  MAN 

Their  reawakened  passion  tingled  in  their  veins.  Reason 
or  unreason,  they  knew  they  belonged  to  each  other — 
although  they  might  be  separated  forever  before  this  day 
of  miracles  was  over.  Una's  jealousy,  doubt,  bitterness 
were  all  forgotten.  Her  cheek  flushed  with  joy,  her  eyes 
sparkled  with  the  sweet  madness  that  belongs  only  to 
youth,  youth  at  the  highest  pinnacle  of  its  desire.  Neither 
spoke.  Speech  would  have  silenced  the  wordless  elo- 
quence with  which  their  love  revealed  itself.  They  drew 
closer  to  each  other.  Again  their  hands  met.  Their  lips 
touched.  Love  swept  away  all  doubts  and  denials  in  one 
passionate  embrace. 

Ever  since  the  world  began  lovers  have  solved  their 
difficulties  thus,  and  they  will  doubtless  choose  this 
dumb  method  long  after  an  aging  civilization  has  pointed 
out  a  better  one.  Whether  they  are  wise  or  not,  a  col- 
lege of  philosophers  would  fail  to  convince  us.  In  this 
particular  instance  Love  put  forth  his  plea  at  the  very 
instant  when  these,  his  youthful  votaries,  were  wanted 
of  another,  alien  destiny.  As  they  stood  together,  obliv- 
ious of  all  else  save  their  own  passion,  the  music  grew 
louder,  more  joyous,  throbbing  now  in  statelier,  more  in- 
telligible cadence  than  before.  At  the  end  of  the  gallery 
a  new  light  began  to  break.  The  intervjening  wall  disap- 
peared, disclosing  an  inner  chamber  filled  with  a  throng 
of  gaily  dressed  people,  some  of  whom  played  upon  musi- 
cal instruments,  while  others  swung  golden  censers  from 
which  floated  forth  in  amber  clouds  the  fragrance  of  many 
gardens. 

A  living  corridor  of  color,  formed  of  courtiers,  musi- 
cians, priests,  extended  from  this  inner  chamber  in  a 
spreading  half  circle,  the  broad  portion  of  which  reached 


THE  GILDED  MAN  353 

the  gallery  where  David  and  Una  were  standing.  At  the 
center  of  all  this  light  and  motion  and  color  was  Saji- 
pona,  every  inch  of  her  a  queen,  although  the  pallor  of 
her  cheek,  the  unwonted  tenseness  of  eye  and  lip,  told 
of  emotions  that  needed  all  a  queen's  strength  to  restrain. 
Immediately  about  her  were  grouped  the  explorers; 
Miranda,  silenced  for  once  by  the  splendor  of  the  scene 
in  which  he  suddenly  found  himself  in  a  leading  part; 
Leighton,  still  absorbed  in  the  problems  of  science  re- 
vealed at  every  turn  in  this  wonderland.  Just  above  and 
behind  them  rose  a  human  figure  of  heroic  proportions, 
concealed  from  head  to  foot  in  flowing  white  draperies. 
Against  the  rounded  pedestal  of  green  stone  sustaining 
this  figure  leaned  Sajipona,  one  arm  resting  along  the 
base  of  the  statue,  the  other  lost  in  the  silken  folds  of 
her  robe. 

As  David  and  Una,  startled  by  the  sudden  clash  of  the 
music,  raised  their  heads,  her  eye  caught  theirs.  Like  a 
queen  of  marble  she  looked  at  them,  unrecognizing,  mo- 
tionless, save  for  the  slightest  tremor  of  her  faultlessly 
chiseled  mouth — the  one  sign  that  she  saw  and  knew. 
With  a  gesture  she  checked  the  music.  Silence  followed, 
unbroken  by  the  faintest  murmur  of  voices  or  rustle  of 
garments  from  the  waiting  throng  of  cavemen.  Un- 
abashed by  this  strange  reception,  moved  only  by  the 
steady  gaze  of  the  majestic  woman  standing  before  him, 
David,  still  clasping  Una's  hand,  came  swiftly  forward 
and  would  have  thrown  himself  impetuously  at  Sajipona's 
feet.  The  faintest  hint  of  a  smile  gleamed  in  her  eyes 
as  she  prevented  this  show  of  homage.  Her  greeting 
came  clear  and  low  from  quivering  lips: 

"This  is  our  festival,  David!" 


354  THE  GILDED  MAN 

Again  the  music  sounded,  not,  as  before,  in  a  joyous 
burst  of  melody,  but  in  a  slow  chant,  barbaric  in  feeling, 
wailing,  unearthly.  The  listening  throng  moved  uneasily, 
filled  with  vague  premonitions  of  what  was  to  come. 
Sajipona  lifted  her  hands  to  the  statue,  then  smiled 
serenely  at  the  two  lovers  before  her.  The  spell  was 
broken. 

"This  is  the  ancient  festival  of  my  people,"  she  said. 
"It  should  be  a  time  for  rejoicing.  The  Gilded  Man 
awaits  us." 

As  she  spoke  the  veils  covering  the  statue  dropped  one 
by  one  to  the  ground.  Before  them  stood,  dazzling,  glo- 
rious, the  figure  of  a  man  carved  in  gold.  His  head  was 
uplifted,  as  if  intent  on  something  beyond  the  ordinary 
ken  of  mortal.  Only  the  face  was  clearly  and  sharply 
chiseled;  the  rest  of  the  figure — limbs,  body,  and  flowing 
drapery — blended  together  in  one  massive  pillar  of 
flaming  gold. 

The  effect  on  the  beholder  of  this  exquisitely  molded 
shaft  of  metal,  upon  which  the  radium  light  from  above 
sparkled  and  flashed,  was  indescribable.  The  brilliance, 
the  lavishness  of  it,  savored  of  barbarism;  but  the  deli- 
cacy of  detail,  the  simple  pathos  and  exaltation  portrayed 
in  the  face,  had  in  it  an  art  that  was  Nature's  own.  And 
the  wonder  of  it,  the  miracle  that  caught  all  men's  eyes 
as  they  looked,  was  the  likeness  that  lived  in  every  fea- 
ture. For  this  Gilded  Man,  newly  wrought  to  preside 
over  the  last  festival  of  this  forgotten  race ;  this  one  final 
splendid  piece  of  work  that  summed  up  all  that  was  best 
and  noblest  in  an  ancient  art,  was  a  deathless  portrait  in 
gold  of  the  man  who  stood  before  Sajipona,  of  the  man 
upon  whom  she  had  built  her  hopes,  and  for  whom  she 


THE  GILDED  MAN  355 

would  sacrifice  everything.  It  was  David — a  queen's 
tribute  of  immortal  love. 

Touched  at  heart,  the  living  David  knelt  at  Sajipona's 
feet,  pressing  her  robe  to  his  lips.  A  moment  she  stooped 
caressingly  above  him,  whispering  words  that  none — not 
even  he — could  hear.  Then  proudly  she  stood  before 
them,  regarding  those  about  her  with  an  eye  that  did 
not  falter  in  its  imperious  glance. 

*'It  is  the  last  festival,"  she  said.  "With  this  the  Land 
of  the  Condor  will  pass  away.  The  outside  world  of  men 
has  tracked  us  here  before  the  dream  that  we  had  of  a 
golden  age  could  be  fulfilled.  Not  with  us  can  these  be 
allied.  They  love  not  as  we  love;  their  faith,  the  beauty 
that  they  prize,  is  not  as  ours.  In  another  time  it  might 
have  been — perhaps  it  still  will  be.  But,  if  it  is  to  be, 
that  dream  will  come  true  ages  after  this  Feast,  this 
Sacrifice,  of  the  Golden  Man  is  over." 

As  she  finished  speaking,  Sajipona  looked  again  at 
David,  unspoken  grief  in  her  eyes.  He  stretched  his 
hands  to  her,  murmuring  her  name,  appealing  to  her, 
terror-stricken  by  the  stern  look  that  slowly  overspread 
her  features,  telling  of  some  great  and  tragic  purpose 
she  was  bent  on  carrying  out.  But  she  was  unmoved  by 
his  entreaties.  Slowly  she  turned  away.  Then,  beck- 
oning to  the  priests,  Saenzias  and  Omono,  she  disap- 
peared with  the^i  behind  the  golden  statue.  Those  who 
remained,  breathlessly  awaited  her  return — the  explorers 
restless  and  anxious,  the  cavemen  rapt  in  a  sort  of  re- 
ligious ecstasy.  It  was  thus  that  their  ancestors  had 
awaited  the  plunge  of  the  Indian  monarch  into  the  dark 
silent  waters  of  the  Sacred  Lake. 

And  now  high  above  them  the  thin  wall  of  the  palace 


3S6  THE  GILDED  MAN 

roof  was  opened.  Without,  the  great  sun  t>f  this  under- 
world poured  down  its  radiance.  Almost  blinded,  they 
could  still  dimly  see,  standing  just  on  a  level  with  this 
sun,  Sajipona  arrayed  as  became  the  last  descendant  of 
the  zipas.  At  her  side  were  the  two  priests;  but  these 
retreated  as  the  scorching  heat  pierced  them.  For  an 
instant  she  stood  where  they  left  her,  a  vision  of  majestic 
beauty  that  fascinated  and  held  them  spellbound.  Then, 
chanting  an  Indian  song  of  triumph,  the  paean  with 
which  the  ancient  kings  heralded  their  descent  to  the  god 
beneath  the  waters  of  the  Sacred  Lake,  she  cast  herself 
into  the  globe  of  fire. 

A  wave  of  light  flamed  across  the  upturned  face  of  the 
golden  statue,  a  wail  of  mingled  exultation  and  despair 
arose  from  the  throng  below. 

The  Festival  of  the  Gilded  Man  was  ended. 


LAND  OF  THE 
CONDOR 


^, 


